Relic of Tomorrow
written by Lisa D. Hyslop 

Prologue



"Time is a river of passing events...strong is its current..." 
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus 



Kirk paced anxiously back and forth in front of the inert
Guardian of Forever. It had been precisely nineteen minutes and
forty-five seconds since Spock's disappearance into time. He
stopped pacing, shot a frustrated helpless look towards McCoy,
and asked, for the third time, "Bones, where is Spock?!"

McCoy, who had been sitting quietly on an outcrop of some near by
rocks, spread his hands out in a helpless gesture, and shook his
head to indicate that he still didn't know. "All we can do is
wait, Jim."

Kirk spun around to face the Guardian and snapped impatiently,
"Guardian!"

"Do you have a question?" came the Guardian's slow rumbling
reply.

"Yes!" Kirk shouted. Then making a Herculean attempt to calm
down, he repeated in a tightly controlled manner, "Yes, I do have
a question for you."

The Guardian responded, "What is your question?"

Unable to resume control of his anger, Kirk yelled, "Where in
hell is my first officer?!"

The Guardian responded to the irate question with irritating
calmness. "The traveler has proceeded on through time."

Then feeling helplessly frustrated, Kirk strode over to join
McCoy.

As Kirk sat silently glaring at the familiar shifting patterns of
colors within the Guardian's center, McCoy wondered what, if
anything, he could say to bring some kind of hope to his friend.
Also frustrated, McCoy sighed heavily then asked rhetorically.
"How in the Hell did we get into this mess in the first place?!"



-1-



"A consistent man believes in destiny a capricious man in chance." 
Benjamin Disraeli 



The bright yellow light of an F7 spectral type star streamed its
warmth down upon Samara, and a gentle breeze caressed the two
major land masses. A majestic mountain range spanned the length
of one of the two main bodies of land. Alongside the main range
of mountains, called the ChenAra mountains, nestled a tiny
village of primitively constructed huts.

Heads cowled, and their eyes lowered, intent upon their tasks, a
small group of robed figures worked silently. These cloistered
beings called themselves the ChenAra Mountain Scholars. Their
special sect engendered a sophisticated level of both knowledge
and moral standards, the latter of which had centuries earlier
brought about the development of the Scholar's sense of `ordained
responsibilities' a determination to guide the Samaran people to
an enlightened way of life.



***** 

Leaning over his board intensely, the Helmsman announced.
"Captain the second planet in this system appears to be an
uncharted class M planet."

Captain Theodore Henderson of the U.S.S. Aries, NCC-602, eased
forward in his command chair. "Helm, bring us into standard
orbit."

"Aye, sir. Standard orbit."

Captain Henderson then turned to face the communications station.
"Commander Trrela, please send a subspace message to inform
Starbase Eleven that we're entering the Adhafera star system to
check out a class M planet in this system."


"Aye, sirrr." The silky golden mane of the Caitian communications
officer made a soft rustling sound as Trrela turned to hiss a
respectful response.

Captain Henderson leaned back and gazed thoughtfully at the image
displayed on the forward screen as the U.S.S. Aries glided
smoothly into orbit around the newly discovered world. From their
vantage point out in space, the planet was roughly Earth-like in
appearance.

"Do our sensors register any life forms down on the planet
surface?" Captain Henderson inquired.

"Searching, sir." After a complete life form sweep search of the
planet's main land masses, the young lieutenant glanced up and
reported, "Our sensors register humanoid life forms, Captain."

Captain Henderson eased back into his command chair and ordered.
"Let's first find out everything we can about this planet through
our sensors before sending down a survey landing party."

"Aye, sir." The helmsman dutifully studied the scanner readouts
and turned to make his report.

"The planet has two major land masses and a large number of
islands of varying size. Of the planet's two main continental
land masses, the larger comprises fifty-five percent of the
planet's total land area. The smaller land mass, comprises forty
percent of the planet's total land area."

Nodding, Henderson asked. "What do our sensors show about the
planet's demographics, Lieutenant?"

The young man sitting at the Helm glanced again at the data
readout then continued. "The larger continent appears to be
sparsely populated. Most of the land area is being used primarily
for agricultural purposes, possibly to support the planet's basic
food needs. The smaller continent is more heavily populated and
appears to be the center of the planet's major industry. There's
a heavy concentration of primitive, coal and wood burning
furnaces. That would place the planet's level of technological
development at approximately the beginning of the Industrial Age
on Earth."

Captain Henderson slapped his hands against his thighs. "Okay.
Thank you, Lieutenant. Your report has told us as much as we're
going to find out about the planet below while sitting up here in
space!" Henderson then reached over and pushed down the intercom
button on his command chair. "Commander Adrienne?"

A deep smooth, confident alto female voice responded. "Yes,
Captain?" Henderson inhaled deeply then ordered. "Commander
Adrienne, could you get your survey team together to beam down to
the planet in about twenty minutes?"

"Yes, Captain."



*****

Captain Henderson met Commander Maretta Adrienne and her survey
team in the transporter room prior to their beaming down.
Commander Adrienne was a tall, pleasantly full bodied, attractive
woman in her middle to late thirties. Her oval shaped face was
neatly framed by luxuriant onyx-colored hair which, when more
closely examined, was "artistically" streaked with gray.

Smiling, Henderson approached Commander Maretta Adrienne as she
examined her tricorder.

Adrienne, sensing the captain's presence, looked up.

Extending his right hand to her, Captain Henderson said, "Good
luck down there, and be careful Maretta."

Adrienne smiled back and caressed his hand with both her hands.
"Don't worry Theo, our sensors didn't detect any sign of advanced
weaponry or any wars going on down there."

Then placing his own hand on top of her hand, he leaned closer
and added in a confidential tone, "This planet is on the outer
perimeter of the Federation protected space, and is just close
enough to bordering on the Romulan Neutral Zone that we need to
investigate the possibility of bringing this planet under the
legal jurisdiction of the Federation before the Romulans or
Klingons lay claim to it. We want to do whatever we can to
protect this planet."

Adrienne nodded understandingly. "Will do." She then turned to
join her survey team waiting on the transporter platform.



*****

The transporter technician set coordinates for a secluded site
near a major chain of mountains. The shimmering effect of the
transporter first dissolved, then resolidified the survey team.
Commander Maretta Adrienne inhaled deeply. The day was equivalent
to a Spring day on Earth. The sky was a beautiful, soft blue with
scattered puffs of cottony soft white clouds overhead. A recent
rain had cleansed the sky of haze, and left the air crystal
clear.

As Adrienne glanced around to make certain no one had seen their
arrival she also took a life form reading of the area with her
tricorder. Adrienne frowned slightly, looked off into the
distance south of their current position, and remarked with a
note of concern, "Well, it appears as if our arrival may have
been observed by someone." She then rechecked her tricorder,
released a relieved sigh, and tapping her tricorder with a
well-manicured index fingernail, continued, "This same individual
now appears to be heading back toward a small grouping of huts
further south."

Looking up from her tricorder, Adrienne concluded. "And since
there's nothing we can do to `undo' the possibility of having
been observed, let's all try to circumvent any further potential
violations of the Prime Directive." She then led the landing
party over to a secluded area nestled up next to a major range of
mountains and surrounded by boulders on three sides, and
announced. "Okay, let's set up our main encampment here."



*****

A panting young man dressed in a long hooded robe ran toward a
collection of primitive looking huts. Ewen, one of the younger
ChenAra Scholars, had seen the Aries survey team suddenly appear
from out of thin air. He returned to his village as fast as was
possible wearing a Scholar's robe.

The Eldest Scholar of the village, whose given name was Elias,
held the official position and title of Speaker among his
Brethren. Standing in the doorway of the Central Meeting hut, he
could sense the anxiety of the younger Scholar as he approached.
"What be the cause of your troubled spirit?"

Breathing heavily, Ewen first bowed respectfully, then with calm
concentration, he slowed down and stabilized his breathing.
"Speaker Elias, I have just witnessed a strange and most wondrous
occurrence!"

Elias silently nodded. "Very well, tell me young Scholar, what
did you witness?"


Ewen inhaled deeply and proceeded to describe what he had seen.
"I was gathering firewood up around the foothills, when I saw, in
the distance, a strange disturbance within the atmosphere. Two
meters above ground level, just before, a shimmering light
appeared, and then beings, much like ourselves, materialized into
three-dimensional form from the shimmering light!"

Upon hearing this news, the Elias's eyebrows elevated slightly.
The strangers' manner of arrival was definitely unknown to
Samara. He thought, These strangers be not of Samara.

Ewen looked down at his hands, then, looked up at Elias. "The
people from the shimmering light be dressed as the townspeople of
Kadar, and they seemed to have a gentleness of spirit and an
essence of intelligence."

Elias sat silently frowning for a moment, nodded knowingly to
himself, then responded solemnly, "Please speak of your sighting
to no others, but be not concerned, my child. You have done well
in telling me of what you witnessed."

Ewen looked worried, and asked. "Speaker Scholar, who be these
strangers, and be they from where?"

Elias solemnly interrupted, patiently motioning for the other's
silence. Then, smiling reassuringly, he shook his head and
continued. "I believe the group of strangers you witnessed to be
not of malevolent intent. Be not of troubled mind. Go now, attend
to your designated tasks." The young Scholar was gently
dismissed.



-2-



"Nec scire fas est omnia." 
(It is not permitted us to know everything.)Horace 



It was vital that the survey team, as expeditiously as possible,
explore the new planet then report back to Starfleet. So each of
the team members within the landing party had a specific set of
separate but interrelated duties to perform.


Lieutenant Commander Peter Ryan, in charge of Group Alpha, looked
at his indigenously dressed charges, and announced. "Well, if we
are all ready to go into the city?" Everyone assigned to the
socio-politico-technological study double checked their carefully
concealed recording equipment. Then Ryan and his group set off
cautiously down the dirt road toward Kadar.

The young lieutenant commander issued instructions as they
walked, "Once in the city, we need to find and secure a centrally
located shelter of some sort, and then try to blend in with our
surroundings as much as possible."

A question came from one of the landing part members.
"Commander?"

Peter Ryan turned. "Yes?"

The youngest member of their group asked. "What are our orders
should we be discovered as..."

"...as aliens from outer space?" Ryan suggested.

"Yes, sir." The words were spoken shyly.

Ryan, grinned slightly, then with an expression of feigned
seriousness, responded, "Well, Lieutenant, if we are discovered,
we've been ordered by the top brass of Starfleet to
self-destruct!" Spontaneous laughter relaxed the tension of the
moment, as they continued toward their destination.



*****

Group Beta, specializing in geology, was assigned to examine the
planet's predominant mountain range on the smaller continent.
Carrying tools and tricorders, they marched off toward their
initial digging site.

Commander Maretta Adrienne, alone was responsible for holding
down the fort, maintaining contact with the various groups, and
then transmitting the reports of their findings to Starfleet.
Sighing, Adrienne got herself settled in the small prefabricated,
camouflaged lean-to. Looking again toward the south, she pulled
out her communicator. "Group Beta, come in please."

"Lieutenant Stevenson here."

"Stevenson, I'd like you to investigate that little village of
huts south of my position. Try not to attract attention to
yourselves, but see if our presence has stirred up the
inhabitants."

"Yes, Commander. My tricorder readings show that no one has left
the village since your first sighting."

Adrienne pursed her lips. "Be that as it may, Lieutenant, I've
had the uncomfortable feeling that we're being watched. So, keep
a close watch on the village, Terry."

Lieutenant Stevenson responded, "Yes, Commander."

Just before Adrienne closed her communication contact she added.
"Check in with your geological report as soon as you've completed
your study." She then settled herself to patiently wait to hear
from her team groups.

"Yes, Commander. Stevenson out."



*****

Following their planetary study, the various survey teams began
calling in with their reports.

Terry Stevenson got out his communicator. "Home Base, come in
please. Lieutenant Terrance Stevenson reporting."

Adrienne responded. "Yes, Terry, what do you have to report?" she
asked hopefully.

The lieutenant responded seriously, "As a matter of fact,
Commander, I believe we've found something in which the
Federation would interested."

Adrienne's right eyebrow rose curiously. "Don't just leave me in
suspense, Terry; tell me what have you found!"

The lieutenant inhaled deeply then proceeded with his report.
"Commander, the local chain of mountains contain vast quantities
of metallic ores, including molybdenum, iron, gold and especially
trititanium!"

Adrienne nodded to herself and responded, "That is good news,
Terry."

Before closing his communication connection, the lieutenant
added, "Commander, according to our tricorder readings, no one
has either left or entered that little village of huts you asked
me to keep a discrete eye on. Everything seems to be quiet."

Adrienne furrowed her eyebrows. "Thanks, Terry."

Shortly following Lieutenant Stevenson's report, Adrienne then
received the geological findings on the larger land mass.

"Survey Unit leader to `Home Base,' Commander Adrienne."

"This is `Home Base,' what've ya got Fredericks?"

"Commander, our tricorder soil analysis shows the soil to be rich
in the necessary minerals for growing a wide variety of fruit,
vegetables, and especially grains."

Adrienne arched a delicate eyebrow. "Thanks, this planet is
turning out to have a plenitude of goodies to offer. How soon
will you and your team be ready to report back to Home Base?"

"We should be ready to return to your position in about another
forty-five minutes."

"Fine, I'll see ya back here in about forty-five minutes."
Adrienne then closed her communicator and resumed her silent
vigil of waiting for all of her landing party groups to return to
Home Base.



*****

Lieutenant Commander Peter Ryan in charge of the
socio-politico-technological survey team was of course the last
to report due to the complexity of his group's assignment.

Adrienne sighed, and opened her communicator. "Home Base."

"Lieutenant Commander Ryan of Group Alpha reporting, Commander."

Adrienne responded. "Yes, Commander, how's your group doing?"

Ryan proceeded with his report. "The local name for this planet
is Samara. According to our observations, the socio-political
development here rates at a slightly higher level than the
technological development. It looks like an ancient culture
making a smooth transition into its industrial age without the
stimulus of sporadic warfare typical during Earth's early
industrial period."

Adrienne inhaled deeply. Their time on Samara was drawing to an
end. "You and your group return to Home Base as soon as you've
got a graceful exit. Home Base out." Then Adrienne sat back in
her canvas director's chair, and waited for her survey teams to
return.



*****

Captain Henderson rested his elbows on the briefing room table
clasping his hands together. "Well Commander, I was impressed by
the reports submitted by your survey team."

Adrienne smiled, "Thank you, Captain."

Captain Henderson returned her smile, and glanced down at the
final entry of the report. "Commander, it is your team's
conclusion that Samara be considered off limits because of the
Prime Directive?"

Adrienne nodded her consent. "Yes, Captain. Given time for it to
grow, I believe that Samara would make a valuable member of our
steadily growing little family. But now is not the time."

Henderson agreed. "Yes, it would be tempting to make contact now,
given its supply of trititanium, but I'm not sure the population
is ready. They need some time. And we're going to give to them."



-3-



"All things from eternity are of like forms and come round in a circle." 
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus 



Speaker Elias retreated into the peaceful solitude of the Central
Meeting hut. The Ancient Knowledge foretold of the possibility of
other worlds with intelligent life. Yet, he recognized the
unreadiness of the majority of Samara's population to be made
known of such a revelation. Contact between the strangers and
Samaran people now might have disastrous effects on the normal
development of the still very young and maturing culture on
Samara.

For the next several days, Elias deliberated with his council.
"My Brethren, I believe the strangers, whose encampment is
nestled next to our sacred mountain, are a culmination of an
ancient prophesy."

A Scholar, who was the Speaker's junior by only a few years,
respectfully asked, "Speaker Elias, by what sign do thee make
such a pronouncement?"

Elias looked down frowning, and responded, "I was told by one of
our younger Brethren, that while he was gathering wood, he
observed a most wondrously strange sight. These strangers have
come to us in a most unusual manner, appearing from the very air
in a light that shimmered."

There were reactions of concern and amazement among his fellow
Brethren upon hearing this. Then the Scholar who had spoken
previously asked, "What be the ancient prophesy's guidance as to
the wisest course of action, if any, to be taken?"

Elias's bushy silver-gray eyebrows furrowed then he answered, "I
believe it is now our responsibility to slowly begin preparing
the people of this world for the coming of yet more strangers."

With eyes squinted suspiciously, the other Scholar asked, "How do
we begin preparing the people of Samara for such a coming?"

Elias stood. "I will make a journey alone to Kadar to speak with
the Archon Arvid Sagi. He has been a wise leader of his people
for these many years and so, I believe, he will receive such a
revelation with well grounded intelligence." The Speaker Scholar
nodded. "Please, I ask that all be not concerned." He then
solemnly left the meeting hut.



*****

While walking along the well-traveled dirt road leading into
Kadar Speaker Elias recalled his first meeting with the young
Archon Arvid Sagi many years ago. Elias had been just a young
Scholar when he was chosen for the honored assignment of making
the official contact between the Scholars and the then young
newly succeeded Archon.

The sky blushed in pinks and reds of a new dawn. As the young
Elias approached the imposing three-story black and red marble
palace he shivered. The youth stopped, and silently mused, Am I
shivering from cold or fear? He then laughed quietly to himself
and climbed the stone steps approaching the palace's imposing
heavy wooden door. He purposefully struck against the door with
the ornate metal door knocker then stood back, and, with the
quiet patience taught him as a Scholar, waited to be
acknowledged.

The large door creaked open just enough to allow the guard inside
to peek out. "Who be you, and what be your business?"

The Speaker Elias smiled remembering how this inquiry had, at
that time, taken him very much by surprise. He had just assumed
that everyone would recognize him as a ChenAra Mountain Scholar
from the long hooded robe he was wearing. The Speaker Elias shook
his head heavily and continued with his reverie.

Young Elias responded in a slightly flustered manner, "Good-
morning. I be a Scholar from the ChenAra Mountains, and my
business here is to meet with the Archon Arvid Sagi, if you
please." He then nodded humbly.

"Hummph." The guard's gaze scowled at the young Scholar scanning
him from head to toe. "Wait here Scholar, I will announce you."
Then the huge door creaked shut.

Young Elias shivered again, and figuring the guard's unfriendly
demeanor was most likely due to his being awakened, then stood to
wait for the guard's return.

The yellow-white Samaran sun was beginning to warm the stone
steps beneath his sandaled feet, and Kadar was awakening with
stirring of people. He looked about timidly. His last memories of
being in Kadar were of when he was a child and had seen a ChenAra
Mountain Scholar for the first time. A sudden sound of heavy wood
moving, and hinges creaking alerted his attention to the moment.

"Please enter, Scholar." The guard grumbled.

His heart was pounding with anticipation as he bowed his head and
entered. He discretely looked around as the guard led him down
numerous corridors. There were some unlit torches propped into
ornately designed iron holders. We Scholars arise with the sun.
It is however still early in the morning, and the Archon has not
yet awakened. The young Elias surmised. The guard stopped short
in front of a heavy dark wood door which had carvings of when the
first Archon assumed power over the then splintered, and feuding
many little principalities. Opening the door, the guard then
ushered the young Scholar into a large, sparsely furnished
chamber. "Wait here the Archon will meet with you upon his
arising." The guard retreated back out into the corridor shutting
the door.

Elias glanced nervously around him. Behind him the door opened
again and a medium height, slender young man, about his own age,
dressed in a richly designed raiment of crimson red and gold
walked proudly into the room. "Greetings Scholar, I be the Archon
Arvid Sagi."



*****

Speaker Elias stopped for a moment at the city's perimeter, and
thought, Those be memories of many years passed indeed! He hadn't
returned since that time long ago. Upon approaching the
three-story black and crimson marble palace, he lifted his gaze
toward the large wooden door, sighed, and slowly climbed the
stone steps. There was a curious sense of deja vu as he knocked
several times and waited for a response. Smiling, he mused, It
would be a wonder indeed if that same unhappy guard, whom I met
many years ago, is the one to greet me again now. Then the
ponderous wooden door opened slowly, and a short, stocky
curly-haired guard, squinting into the glare of the early evening
sunset, asked, "Yes? Who be you?" He then paused, blinking. "Oh,
Scholar! What be your business here?"

Speaker Elias smiled, amused that both times he'd been to the
palace the front door guard hadn't seemed to recognize him as a
Scholar at first. He then thought, We Scholars must consider
being more frequently seen by the Samaran people. Or perhaps it
is merely a standard question for the front door guard to ask. He
then responded, "I be here to speak of a highly confidential
matter with the Archon Sagi."

Eyebrows quizzically furrowed the guard reiterated curiously, "A
highly confidential matter? Could I inform the Archon as to the
nature of the matter, Scholar?"

Elias frowned, and shook his silver-gray quaffed head. "I cannot
say to anyone except the Archon as to the subject I have come to
discuss."

Then the guard shrugged his shoulders. "Very well, please enter."



*****

The Archon Sagi had been informed via his sentinel grapevine that
a Scholar was, at this moment, being escorted to the Main
Audience Chamber. He leaned heavily onto the right arm of his
throne-like chair and sighed. Furrowing his brow in thought, he
then remembered meeting, many years ago, a young skinny, awkward
Scholar wearing a hooded robe which was much too large for him,
and introducing himself as Elias. The Archon chuckled softly at
the mental image of the skinny Scholar drowning in his own robe.

Just then, the door to the Audience Chamber opened and an older,
dignified and more filled out Scholar was ushered into the room.
The Archon straightened his posture in the chair, nodded regally
and beckoned for the Elder Scholar to approach. "Scholar Elias?
Welcome. It has been many years since our last meeting. How be
you, and to what do I owe the unexpected honor of your visit?" He
then gestured for the Elder Scholar to be seated.

Speaker Elias nodded, sighed tiredly and sat gratefully down upon
the chair he had been offered. "Although my business is of an
urgent nature, Archon," pausing he smiled, then continued, "I
believe there must always be a few moments set aside for the
greeting of long parted friends and associates. I be very well.
And you, Archon appear to have been treated well by the years."

Archon Sagi smiled. "Yes Elias, my blessings be many." Then,
getting back to the business at hand, he leaned forward, more
seriously, resting both elbows on the arms of his chair and
asked, "So tell me Scholar Elias, what be your urgent news?"

Sighing and lowering his hood, Elias spoke softly, "The Ancient
Scholars have many myths and legends telling of events passed,
and prophesying that which is yet to be."

The Archon silently lifted a curious eyebrow in interest as the
Speaker Scholar continued. "Several days ago, while one of the
Scholars was away gathering firewood, he noticed an anomalistic
shimmering within the atmosphere which then solidified into a
group of beings much like ourselves, but I suspect were not of
this world. Our prophesy tells us that these strangers are the
scouts of others who will be coming to our world offering us the
hand of friendship."

The Archon furrowed his brow and frowned thoughtfully. "You are
foretelling that more strangers will be coming to our world of
Samara from another place, from another world, to be our
friends?"

Speaker Elias nodded. "Yes, and it is my belief that the
extraordinary visitation will be within your lifetime."

With nearly breathless concern, the Archon asked anxiously,
"Scholar Elias, your prophesy, be these strangers worthy of our
trust and friendship? Or do you advise me to be alerted to
inevitable danger?"

Standing slowing, Speaker Scholar Elias released a sigh and
smiled, then cryptically responded, "I be not here to advise you
as to what action to take regarding these strangers, but merely
to inform you of what is to come. Trust in your own wisdom and
intelligence, Archon, to advise you as to what Nature's intended
course is for you and this world."

The Archon Sagi nodded silently and stood. "Thank you Scholar. Be
thee well."

Nodding, Scholar Elias responded, "Be thee well also Archon."

The Archon summoned a waiting guard to lead the Scholar back to
the palace's front entrance, and Speaker Elias bowed, then turned
quietly, and left the Audience chamber.

The Archon then silently shook his head and resumed his seat. His
heart beat expectantly as he considered the incredible prophesy
he had just heard.



-4-



"A friend is worth all hazards we can run." 
Young's Night Thoughts 



Captain James T. Kirk, sat mesmerized, staring forward at the
large main screen. He had ordered the scanners to be set to
observe the port and starboard side of the ship. The familiar,
awesome beauty of the receding stars slid by the Enterprise at
warp 3, in a rainbow Doppler effect which never ceased to send an
excited chill down his back. Behind him, to his left a female
voice reached into his reverie.

"Captain, I am receiving an incoming subspace communique from
Starfleet."

Kirk frowned, his eyebrows furrowed into a disgruntled
expression. Before turning around to acknowledge his
Communication Officer's announcement, he thought to himself, So
what else is new? He then straightened up in his command chair,
and donning a more professional expression, pivoted his chair
around toward the communications station where Lt. Uhura was
patiently waiting. "Let's hear the communique, Lieutenant."

The attractive, dark-skinned, communication's officer turned
slightly, and her delicate, long fingers skillfully retrieving
the recorded message, played it back through the audio recorder.

"Captain Kirk, this is Commodore Mendez, Starbase Eleven. We note
that you are currently assigned to Quadrant Nine, Sector Three.
In that sector, there is a planet, Samara, which an initial
survey twenty years ago revealed to contain a veritable mother
load of raw trititanium ore. The planet was listed as off limits,
per the Prime Directive.

"Unfortunately, the planet has become strategically important,
due to a rising conflict with the Tholians. After periodic covert
observation of the planet, Starfleet feels that Samara shows
excellent potential for contact and possibly admission under
protectorate status with the Federation. You are hereby ordered
to initiate standard procedures for initial contact while you are
in that sector."

"That's the end of the communiqué, Captain." Uhura then waited
briefly to see if there was to be any response other than an
acknowledgment.

Kirk sighed softly and thought, What those vultures really want
me to do is try and finagle an ore mining deal! He then smiled
and responded, "Thank you, Lieutenant. Acknowledge that the
message was received, and will be implemented forthwith to the
best of my ability."

With a twinkle in her dark eyes, Uhura smiled, and then turned
around to dispatch the Captain's response.

Swiveling to face the main screen once again, Kirk ordered, "Lay
in a course for Samara Mister Sulu, if you would please."

"Aye, sir, no problem." Then with a soft chuckle, Chief Helmsman
Sulu set the proper coordinates.

Later, as the Enterprise approached the designated planet, Kirk's
heart skipped a beat as he sat up and stared at the image
displayed on the forward screen. Samara, at their present
distance, looked very much like his own home planet Earth. Kirk
turned to his right to face the Science station. There, his ever
diligent Science and First Officer, Commander Spock, sat
patiently at attention, prepared to give his usual complete
analysis of the planet. Kirk silently raised his eyebrows into a
questioning expression, upon which Spock immediately launched
into his report. "Samara is a Class M planet and is second in
position of three planets in order from it's primary, an early 4
th magnitude star. The planet has two orbiting satellites, the
closest being 240,400 km distance from Samara, with the furthest
satellite at 768,800 km."

Kirk then shook his head and interrupted Spock with a hint of
impatience. "Mister Spock, What information do you which is
germane to our mission?"

Spock raised an indignant eyebrow then calmly responded to the
Captain's request, "The original survey party reports showed
there were indications of crude coal and wood burning furnaces,
placing their socio-technological development approximately
equivalent to the later Industrial Age of 19 th century Earth.
Current sensor readings reveal some insignificant advancement has
taken place since, however there are no signs yet of space
travel, or usage of nuclear fission or fusion."

"Of geological interest, on the smaller land mass is a major
range of mountains, listed as the ChenAra Mountains which,
according to close range scanners, appears to be the main source
of trititanium ore deposits reported by Starfleet."

"They have a monarchal form of government whose current patriarch
is the Archon Arvid Sagi. There is only one known heir apparent,
the Archon's son, Ben-Ami Addar. Within the capitol city of
Kadar, sensors show there is an edifice 4.5 km from the northern
perimeter of Kadar, whose structure, according to chronosensor
readouts is the oldest building. It is logical to assume that
this is the seat of the Samaran government."

Kirk leaned on the arm of his chair, sighed then facetiously
asked. "Then you probably wouldn't recommend we beam down right
in the middle of their town square?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, then his expression became serious as he
solemnly responded, "No, sir, I most certainly would not
recommend such a course of action."

Kirk chuckled, then turned his gaze toward the helm. "Very well
then pull us into a standard orbit, Mister Sulu."

Smiling to himself, Sulu responded, "Aye, sir, standard orbit."

Pounding the arms of his command chair lightly, Kirk then eased
himself up, and turned toward Spock. "Considering their current
reported stage of development, it's not very likely that they've
seen an extraterrestrial. I'm sorry Mister Spock that means you
stay here and mind the store."

Spock nodded, and responded, "Yes, sir."

As Kirk headed toward the turbolift he requested, "Oh, and have
someone who is familiar with the Industrial Age, and a team of
two security guards, dressed in local attire, meet me in the
transporter room in five minutes." Spock stood and stepped toward
the center seat to assume command.

Kirk arrived in the transporter room to find the two security
officers, both looking absolutely ridiculous in their town
peasant's garb, and a reasonably attractive woman wearing a
mid-calf length peasant's dress, her head gracefully swathed in a
scarf. Kirk himself was dressed as a respectable looking 19th
century town's merchant.

Kirk stifled a chuckle as he looked over his landing party, then
focused his attention with a questioning, curious expression,
specifically upon the woman in their group.

Pulling her petite 5'3" frame to a stance of attention, and
without being asked she introduced herself, "Lieutenant Commander
Anna Ronello, sir. I have a special interest in history and the
development of growing civilizations."

A wisp of blond hair peeked out from underneath the scarf, and
her hazel eyes with tiny specks of brown and gold sparkled
intelligently. Kirk asked, "Are you at all familiar with Earth's
Industrial Age, Lieutenant?"

Anna Ronello, taken by surprise by the Captain's question,
responded. "Yes, sir, of course I am."

Satisfied, Kirk commanded, "Very well people, let's get this show
on the road!"

As they mounted the transporter platform, Kirk looked toward the
transporter chief, and rhetorically inquired. "You have the
coordinates set, Mister Lyle?"

The transporter chief immediately responded. "Yes, sir! Mister
Spock laid in the coordinates placing you 3.5 km from the nearest
township."

"Thank you very much Mister Lyle. Energize."



***** 

Their beam down site was 1.5 km from an impressive chain of
mountains. According to Spock's report on the planet, these
should be the ChenAra Mountains. Kirk thought. The sky overhead
was an Earth like, clear, robin's egg blue, and the planet's
primary star shown bright warm yellow directly above. Directly
ahead of them, precisely 3.5 km away, was the capitol city of
Kadar.

Kirk looked up at the sun's position in the sky then at his
little band and announced, "It's probably about their lunch time
so we shouldn't have any problem finding people to talk to." With
that, the landing party set on their way down a well traveled
dirt road toward Kadar.

The experience of walking into the township was, for the members
of the Enterprise landing party, like going centuries back into
time. People bustled about in groups of twos or more, each intent
upon his own business.

"Okay. Spock mentioned in his report there is a large building
about 1.5 km from where we are. Let's go and see if we can locate
the individual in charge of their government."

The capitol building, made from a smooth onyx black marble
mottled with deep blood red, was visually impressive as it was
the tallest structure within Kadar, and had a distinctly palatial
demeanor. Stone steps led up to an impressive wooden main door.
Kirk straightened his leather vest and marched up stairs. Lt.
Comdr. Ronello walked a few paces behind Kirk while the security
team waited on guard at the foot of the stairs, pretending to be
engaged in business. Kirk grasped the ornate door knocker and
rapped it crisply against the door several times, then stood back
to wait for a response.

Within a few moments a tiny shutter opened and Kirk could see a
pair of eyes looking through. Then a voice from inside asked.
"Yes, what be your business, sir?"

Kirk took in a deep breath then answered, "I have come as the
special envoy of a merchant from far away. I would like to be
granted an audience to speak with the Archon Arvid Sagi please."
Kirk finished speaking and then once again awaited a response.
His explanation for being there was well within Starfleet's New
Planet Contact regulation, and was cryptic enough, he hoped, to
pique the Archon's curiosity.

The voice inside was silent for a few moments, then requested.
"Please, sir, wait here. I will inform the Archon of your
presence, and stated purpose."

Kirk mumbled an agreement to wait, then the small trap door
closed. Five minutes had passed before there was any further
response from within. Then the huge main door slowly opened to
reveal a small stout looking guard with a head full of fawn brown
curly hair and a disarmingly friendly face. "Please enter, sir.
The Archon bids me to bring you to him."

Kirk smiled then politely asked, "May my assistant," Kirk
gestured toward Anna Ronello, "also be permitted to accompany
me?"

The plump little man gazed briefly at Anna Ronello, raised his
bushy eyebrows and nodded. "There be no harm, I humbly think, in
this lovely young lady accompanying, sir. This way, if you
please." The guard then held out a pudgy hand to indicate the
way.



*****

The inside of the capitol palace was lit by candles and wall
torches. As they were ushered along, Kirk and Anna Ronello had
the feeling of having been suddenly transported further back,
from the 19th century into the Renaissance era.

The guard stopped in front of an open entry way which led into
what appeared to a main audience chamber. At the far end of the
room, a distinguished looking man in his mid to late seventies,
and of unquestionable authority, sat regally upon an ornately
carved, dark wood throne-like chair.



-5-



"To know how to suggest is the great art of teaching." 
Amiel's Journal 



With a simple but elegant stroke of his hand the Archon bid the
two strangers come forward. Kirk and his "assistant" silently
approached the throne, and respectfully bowed.

The Archon looked them both over curiously, and nodded. "I be the
Archon Arvid Sagi. My main sentry informs me that you have come
here from far away?"

Kirk stepping forward, responded. "Yes, Archon Arvid Sagi, I am
James Kirk. My assistant and I have come a great distance. We
respectfully seek to negotiate an alliance between your people
and mine."

The Archon's eyebrow elevated slightly. "An `alliance'?" The
Archon remembered that many years ago the Scholars had prophesied
that strangers would come offering the hand of friendship.

Just then a young man came bounding into the room. He gave an
obligatory shallow bow toward his father and proceeded to speak.
"Father, who be these strangers?" He then turned half way around
to give Kirk and Anna Ronello a suspicious glance.

The Archon smiled, embarrassed and, first addressed his two
guests. "This be my son and heir." He then sighed and peered
sternly at his son. "Ben-Ami, please be seated and quietly
listen." The young Archon sullenly sat down and glared at Kirk.

Kirk met the arrogant young man's gaze, smiled pleasantly then
shifted his attention to the more important business at hand.
"Thank you. Archon Sagi, we are very much interested in our
learning about each other, and it is our wish that we may someday
develop a mutually acceptable alliance fostering peaceful
coexistence and open trade between our peoples."

Ben-Ami with a petulant angry expression, inhaled to speak then
was silenced by the Archon with an sharp glance. "James Kirk, I
believe that you are of an honorable people; I would like to
consider your proposal of alliance. Would you meet with me again
tomorrow at this same time?"

"Yes of course, Archon I will look forward to our next meeting."
Kirk then bowed, and Anna Ronello nodded respectfully.

A guard entered the audience chamber, and the Archon announced.
"My personal guard will escort you and your assistant to the
palace's main entrance."



*****

Once the two strangers were ushered from the Audience chamber,
the Archon Arvid Sagi asked, "Ben-Ami, my son, what be your
distrust of the strangers?"

The young Archon responded disdainfully, "Father, what be their
purpose for desiring an alliance with us?! Who be these people,
and from where do they come?!"

The elder Archon had a troubled expression on his heavily lined
face. He had never told his son about the time many years ago
when the Scholars came to the palace with their tales of the
strangers who had visited planet Samara from the stars. The
Archon Arvid Sagi released a heavy sigh and faced his son.
"Ben-Ami, when you were but a year old, I received a most
unexpected visit from a ChenAra Mountain Scholar. I have never
told you of this private conference because well, in my judgment
you are not yet

ready, or mature enough."

Pausing, the elder Archon looked down, then continued, "However,
it seems that the circumstances have conspired against my waiting
any longer to tell you, and to answer the questions which you
have asked."

Ben-Ami sat forward on his chair with a suspicious expression.

Archon Sagi looked at his son, then began to recount the events
of 20 years ago. "As I have said, you were but a toddler when
others visited here from far away. They came in peace. Their
encampment was outside the city only a short visible distance
from the Scholar's village."

Concerned and curious, Ben-Ami interrupted and asked. "Father,
where did they come from and what did they want?!"

Arvid Sagi nodded and smiled tiredly. "I was told by the Scholar
that the strangers' are not of this world."

Upon hearing this Ben-Ami's eyebrows rose and his mouth fell open
slightly as he quietly repeated the words "not of this world"
just now spoken by his father.

Ben-Ami, positively bursting with questions, in an awed tone of
voice, asked, "Father, how do you know that the strangers who
were here today come from another world?"

His son's question was indeed a valid one. Arvid Sagi responded
slowly, "I am certain of only what the Scholar told me. The
Scholars discovered that the strangers were special scouts sent
from far away to investigate the feasibility of a friendship
between their people and ours. I was told to expect to be
contacted at some time in the not too distant future by strangers
claiming to be from far away, who were offering the hand of
friendship."

Ben-Ami smiled impishly then asked. "Father, did the Scholar say
that we should accept their hand of friendship?"

Arvid Sagi smiled. "No, my son. I was advised to use my own
wisdom and judgment regarding an alliance."

Ben-Ami leaned forward with a more serious expression. "Father,
do you know what be the strangers' true purpose in wanting an
alliance with us?"

Arvid Sagi looked at his son and frowned, then shook his head.
"No my son. There be no reason for me to suspect deceit." Rising
slowly from his chair, the Archon pronounced, "In the mean time,
I will adjourn to my private chamber to consider the
responsibility of such an alliance."

"Responsibility?" Ben-Ami asked confused.

"Yes, my son, our moral responsibility." Then as the Archon Sagi
solemnly left the audience chamber Ben-Ami heard his father muse
aloud. "Are we as a civilization `mature' enough to accept the
friendship of people from another world?"



*****

Outside the palace, the landing party were once again all
together. Lt. Ronello was transformed from the quiet, shy peasant
girl into the highly trained, duty oriented Starfleet officer.
"Sir, !"

Kirk, anticipating what she was about to say, held up a hand.
"Yes Lieutenant, that boy was a real son of a an Archon. We're
fortunately not attempting to secure an alliance with the
Archon's son Ben-Ami."

Sighing heavily, Lt. Ronello smiled. "Sir, I am reasonably
confident the elder Archon will grant us our alliance."

Kirk glanced at Lt. Ronello and nodded appearing to share her
optimism. He then led the landing party to a concealed place,
flipped opened his communicator. "Mister Spock, beam us aboard."



*****

After the landing party's return to the Enterprise, Kirk sat
brooding silently in his command chair.

Spock, being acutely aware of his friend's disturbance, lifted a
curious eyebrow. "Captain?"

Kirk turned his command chair toward Spock's station. "Yes Mister
Spock."

"Sir, were you successful in negotiating an alliance with the
Archon?"

Kirk sighed heavily and shook his head. "We don't know yet,
Mister Spock."

Spock remained silent as Kirk continued, "The Samarans, with one
possible exception, seemed to be a pleasant, friendly group of
people."

Doctor McCoy, who had come onto the Bridge just in time to hear
Kirk's last remarks inquired. "Well Jim, if these people are
friendly, then what's the problem?"

"The Archon's heir. He's obnoxious, arrogant, rude,"

McCoy placed a friendly hand on Kirk's left shoulder and quipped,
"In other words, you wouldn't recommend this young Archon for the
man of the year award?"

Kirk released a small laugh, shook his head. "No, Bones I
definitely would not recommend him for the man of the year award!
However, since the Archon's son is of consenting age, if anything
unforeseen should happen to prevent the Archon from being in
charge of the Samaran government, the Federation would be forced
into dealing with the Archon's son. And I must admit, that
possibility makes me just a little uneasy."



*****

Samara's axial rotational period was 25 hours 17.03 minutes, just
a smidgen over Earth's, and Kirk was becoming visibly anxious
about getting on with the business at hand.

Spock remarked, "Sir, Lieutenant Ronello is prepared and awaiting
your presence within the transporter room."

Kirk glance down at his wrist chronometer then turned and asked
jokingly, "Mister Spock! Is it time for me to go back down to
Samara already?"

With a very restrained smile, Spock nodded and answered, "Yes,
sir. It is time."


Standing, Kirk commented, "My how time flies!" Then turning
toward the turbolift, he ordered, "Mister Spock, you mind the
store while I'm gone."

"Aye, sir. Good luck."

Kirk stepped into the turbolift smiling, and quietly mused to
himself. I didn't realize he believed in luck!



*****

Their beam down site this time was an abandoned shack only a
stone's throw from the capitol city of Kadar. As before, they
were all dressed in indigenous clothing.

Walking along toward the palace, Anna Ronello turned to the
Captain and asked, "Sir, do you think the Archon will accept our
proposal?"

Kirk simply shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, sighed, then
replied, "I don't know Lieutenant. We'll find out shortly."

They reached the palace and, within minutes, were once again
escorted to the audience chamber.

The Archon was alone. "Please come forward, James Kirk."

Kirk and Lt. Ronello approached the ornately carved throne-like
chair, and bowed. Kirk then stepped forward. "Thank you for
graciously agreeing to see us Archon."

There was an undefinable expression of awareness on the Archon's
face as he leaned forward smiling, and asked cautiously, "Kirk,
be you and `your people' of an alliance of other worlds, not of
Samara?"

Both Kirk and Anna Ronello were momentarily taken by surprise.
Kirk straightened his shoulders, and responded, "Yes, sir, we
are. May I ask, sir, how it is you became aware of this?"

The Archon smiled and nodded. "Twenty of our years past a Scholar
from the ChenAra Mountains came to the palace to inform me that a
small group of your people had visited Samara in secret,
appearing in a manner not of this world, and that I was to expect
another visit in my lifetime from others claiming to be from far
away, and offering us the hand of friendship. I presumed that a
culture capable of traveling in such a manner would have many
worlds as friends."

Kirk pursed his lips, and satisfied with the Archon's explanation
inquired. "Archon Arvid Sagi, have you reached a decision
regarding our proposal of an alliance?"

"By what name is this alliance known?"

"The Federation of Planets."

The Archon sat back resting his hand in a praying gesture
thoughtfully against his mouth.

Anna Ronello stepped forward. "Archon, may I please speak?"

Lowering his hands, folding them on his lap, the Archon nodded.
"Yes."

"Thank you, sir." Anna Ronello smiled shyly, inhaled deeply, then
continued. "Sir, we have found that the development of an
alliance, as with the growing of a friendship between
individuals, naturally takes time. What we therefore propose is
that we be permitted to send a small, select delegation of people
representing us, and the Federation of Planets, to establish
residence here on Samara to observe Samaran culture. At the same
time, you and your people can become better acquainted with us
and our intentions."

There was a moment of silence as the Archon returned his hands
resting against his mouth in a praying gesture to consider
briefly what he had heard. He then lowered his hands to rest upon
the arms of his chair. "Your proposal appears to be acceptable
and reasonable. I therefore agree."

Kirk, although pleased with the successful culmination of their
two day visit to Samara, was disturbed at the prospect of the
Archon's son's involvement. "Archon Arvid Sagi, first, on behalf
of the Federation of Planets, allow me to express our gratitude
for accepting our offer of friendship."

The Archon's eyebrow furrowed, sensing a further concern. "Be
there a problem Kirk?"

Kirk sighed, and laughed slightly. "Yes, sir, there is a matter
of concern."

The Archon leaned forward. "Yes, what be your concern Kirk?"

Kirk found himself in a most difficult position. "Well, sir, with
all due respect, I think it might be wise not to let anyone know
where we come from."

Archon Sagi frowned, and nodded. "Yes, I believe that keeping
such knowledge confidential would be a wise precaution."

Kirk was beginning to perspire as he, as delicately as he could,
then made his ultimate request. "Archon Sagi, sir, I also believe
it would be wise to keep this knowledge from your son."

Cocking his head to the side curiously, the Archon looked Kirk
straight in the eyes. "My son be already aware of you and where
you come from." Just then his personal guard entered the chamber.
The Archon stood. "My guard will escort you both to the main
door, and I shall be looking forward to meeting the people you
send to live with us."

With a silent nod Kirk and Lt. Ronello were then ushered from the
palace.



-6-



"Many are called but few are chosen." 
Matthew, xxii, 14. 



For the past year, ever since the energy beings of Zetar had
destroyed the computer memory banks at the Memory Alpha Library
Complex, Starfleet had been sending historical and science teams
in rotation to Gateway to gather information to be reprocessed
into the Memory Alpha's main computer banks. The choices for the
next Project Memory Alpha historical team were in the process of
being finalized. Five top qualified members would be spending the
next three week shift on planet Gateway.

In his office on Starbase 11, a small hard looking man of mixed
oriental descent sat behind his desk. His brow furrowed as he
reexamined one of the applications for the Project Memory Alpha
team. When his office door chimed, Doctor Chai Hecuba looked up,
and replacing his concerned expression with one of an unemotional
business-like professionalism, responded crisply, "Enter."

The door opened and in walked a tall medium built man, with dark
coffee brown hair and genial bluish-hazel eyes, who was currently
being considered as the Memory Alpha team supervisor or leader.

Doctor Hecuba grinned stiffly, and indicating a conservatively
modern styled chair opposite him requested, "Doctor Benson,
please be seated."

Nodding respectfully, Will Benson and obediently lowered himself
into the padded seat.

Lowering his gaze to the neat pile of applications on his desk,
Doctor Hecuba picked up the one marked, "Starfleet Personnel
File: Doctor William Harrington Benson."

"I find you to be eminently qualified this up coming mission."

Will Benson smiled. "Thank you very much, sir."

Replacing the application on top of the others, Doctor Hecuba
selected another application, and, set it aside. He then leaned
forward placing his elbows on top of the desk and folding his
hands together, then continued with the current interview. Doctor
Benson, there is only one other member being considered whose
years of service with Starfleet's Institute of Galactic History
would qualify him to be the Project team supervisor."

Will Benson nodded. "Yes, sir, Richard Mathias."

Doctor Hecuba then picked up the isolated application, sat back
and turning to a Personality/Temperament Profile Report silently
perused the entry.

Submitted by: Doctor Verah Acima, Ph.D., M.D.

Head of Starfleet Psych./Med Department

Doctor Richard Brock Mathias has expressed a rigid preference to
keep his work with others on a professional basis, and is not
comfortable mixing business with pleasure. This precludes any
probability of his socializing with any of his co-workers.



Setting the report back onto his desk, Doctor Hecuba quietly,
pursed his lips slightly then observed, "The tendency toward
non-fraternization with his co-workers outside of a professional
environment, in my professional opinion disqualifies Doctor
Mathias from the position of team supervisor. Should a crisis
arise, the team supervisor must have an open relaxed rapport with
those under his supervision to be able to deal with any kind of
problem situation whether it be professional or personal. The
Memory Alpha team will be together for three weeks in close
quarters, and you must be able to rely upon each other for
professional and moral support."

Will Benson opened his mouth to speak as Doctor Hecuba paused,
but was gently silenced as Doctor Hecuba continued, "I am not
saying that his professionalism and years of experience wouldn't
make him a highly qualified team member. In fact, I am
recommending him to be a part of your Memory Alpha team group.
However, I would like for you to be the team supervisor."

Will Benson sighed heavily and thought silently. This is both a
considerable honor and responsibility I'm being offered. Such an
opportunity would open many new doors of historical research, and
also look extremely impressive on my career resume. Will then
respectfully rebutted, "Richard Mathias, who is my oldest and
dearest friend, and former Academy instructor, was counting on
the position of team supervisor to be given to him, sir."

Doctor Hecuba nodded. "Yes, I am fully aware of your respect and
friendship for Doctor Mathias; nevertheless, I still believe that
you are more qualified to be Project team supervisor. Will you
accept the position?"

With an expression of less than the expected excitement, Will
Benson smiled, and resignedly responded, "Thank you, yes, sir.
I'm deeply honored, and," pausing, he then solemnly continued, "I
accept the position of Memory Alpha team supervisor."

Doctor Hecuba stood and smiled, satisfied that the interview was
now concluded. Will Benson also stood, then both men exchanged a
brief handshake. Will left the office wondering what effect
today's meeting would have on the prospective mission to Gateway,
and on his friendship with Richard Mathias.



*****

Doctor Richard Mathias sat hunched over the computer console in
his assigned quarters and stared blankly at a meaningless blur of
readouts on the CRT screen. He knew that he had been chosen to be
on the new Memory Alpha team-But had NOT been chosen its leader.

Mathias sat and thought, I will be eligible for retirement soon.
I not only want to be assigned the Project team supervisor, I
need to be the Project supervisor. There won't be any second
chances for me to be a part of the Memory Alpha Project, and I've
run out of time to make any kind of special contribution in my
field. Mathias sighed as he continued to brood about his
pathetically unremarkable career. I've effectively chosen a "safe
path" spending most of my years as a teacher of history, never
venturing out to contribute toward the making of history.

Mathias then glanced anxiously toward the chronometer, and
released a nervous, frustrated sigh. Soon I will be informed of
my assigned status with the Project. With all the years I've
given to Starfleet's Institute of Galactic History, even though I
haven't done something like uncover some ancient lost
civilization, they have to, No! They are ethically bound to
assign me as Project supervisor! With this final resolution,
Richard Mathias stood and, with an emotionally weighted stride,
headed toward Doctor Chai Hecuba's office.



*****

Richard Mathias stopped, frozen before the office door, and
stared numbly at the name etched on the gold nameplate.

Doctor Chai Hecuba

Institute for Galactic History

He then glanced nervously down at his wrist chronometer noting
that it was time to receive his assignment for the Project Memory
Alpha historical research team. Mathias slowly raised his right
index finger toward the door chime button and, pressed it.

"Enter." A crisp response to his summon came from the intercom on
the wall beside the door.

Richard Mathias froze again for a few moments, then as he placed
his hand over the door entry panel the door whooshed open in
front of him. Stepping inside Mathias moved forward on automatic
pilot toward a distinguished and forbidding looking man sitting
behind the desk.

The senior supervisor stood, speaking gently, "Please, be seated
Doctor Mathias."

Richard Mathias smiled nervously, nodded and sat down.

Doctor Hecuba returned to his own seat, releasing a controlled
sigh and began speaking. "Doctor Mathias, the committee
responsible for choosing qualified personnel to be assigned to
the Project Memory Alpha feel that due to your many years of
service with the Institute of Galactic History you would be the
perfect choice..."

Mathias' heart rate increased as he silently prayed and listened
for what he wanted to hear.

"...for the position of Historical Advisor."

Mathias' heart fell. "Sir, Historical Advisor?"

Doctor Hecuba then smiled amiably in an attempt to soften the
blow. "Yes, the committee feels that your historical knowledge
would be of considerable value to the other chosen Project team
members."

Mathias, leaning forward then sputtered angrily. "Sir, with all
due respect, my years of experience, I believe qualify me to be
assigned as Project team supervisor!"

Doctor Hecuba's expression was sympathetic as he gently but
sternly replied, "Doctor Mathias, I understand your
disappointment, however, the position to which you've been
assigned is still one of considerable responsibility."

Mathias sputtered, "But, sir who?!"

Still wearing a sympathetic expression, the Personnel Supervisor
stood to indicate the completion of the interview. "I'm sorry.
The final list of the upcoming Project Memory Alpha team will be
posted on the electronic bulletin board." Mathias rose slowly,
and shaking Doctor Hecuba's outstretched hand, then defeated,
left the office.



*****

While heading back to the solace of his private quarters, Richard
Mathias's thoughts whirled as he suddenly recognized that the
ending of his career was doomed to being "unremarkable." Mathias
entered his quarters, and sighed, dropping down into the chair at
his computer console.

"Computer electronic bulletin board please." Mathias said
tiredly.

"Working," The computer responded immediately in it's usual,
unemotional metallic tone. Within moments the electronic bulletin
board appeared on the CRT screen.

"Project Memory Alpha team list please." Mathias announced.

"Prepare for Security clearance, retina scan. Name and
identification code please."

"Doctor Richard Brock Mathias, SFGI 233-7569." Mathias in a
monotone voice gave the requested information then sat facing the
CRT screen while a scan examined and verified Mathias' retina
pattern for security clearance. "Doctor Richard Brock Mathias,
Security clearance retina scan verified." The final list of the
Memory Alpha team appeared on the screen.



PROJECT MEMORY ALPHA Historical team summary 

Stardate 2186.05 

1. PROJECT SUPERVISOR: Doctor William Harrington Benson 

2. HISTORICAL ADVISOR: Doctor Richard Brock Mathias 

3. CYBERANALYST: Doctor Rosanna Marie Davidson 

4. PSYCHO/MEDIC: Doctor Joletta Keegan Pierce 

5. APPRENTICE HISTORIAN: Adam Bergen McNeil 



At first Richard Mathias' eyes refused to focus and process the
information he was seeing. He located his own name, second on the
list. Looking at the name above his, he stared disbelieving at it
for a moment, then read it aloud, "William Benson."



***** 

A briefing for the Memory Alpha team was scheduled prior to
sending the historians to Gateway. Mathias spent the time between
receiving his Project assignment and the briefing in a numbed
state of defeat.



-7-
"Sit cæca futuri Mens hominum fati." 
(Let the mind of man be blind as to future destiny.) 
from De Bello Civili by Lucan 



Doctor William Benson, the chairman of the briefing on Starbase
11, sat leaning to one side of his chair. Resting an elbow on the
arm of the chair, he cradled his chin in the palm of his hand as
he listened to each member outline the individual assignments.
This briefing business is Starfleet's idea of proper procedure,
he thought as he stifled a yawn.

Will Benson then leaned forward with both elbows on the briefing
room table, and clasping his hands together, listened to the last
of the outlined assignments given by Doctor Rosanna Davidson.

Once Rosanna had finished speaking, Will straightened himself in
his chair. "Thank you Doctor Davidson. Are there any questions or
comments?"

Nearly everyone seemed content with the progress of the meeting
and anxious to proceed with the trip to Gateway. Adam McNeil, the
youngest member of the team, however, had a discontented
expression on his face. After he'd waited a few moments to see if
anyone else wanted to speak, Adam hesitantly raised his hand to
ask a question.

Will Benson nodded in acknowledgment. "The chair recognizes
Mister Adam McNeil."


The attention of the group then centered on young Adam McNeil.
Adam Bergen McNeil had been chosen as a member of this project in
recognition of his current standing as a promising new addition
to the Federation Institute of Galactic History.

"I submit that, instead of just focusing our collective energies
and skills on the Past, we should also consider the possibility
of what we might learn from a Future Time." Adam McNeil finished
speaking and sat down with a look of hopeful expectancy on his
face. He wanted so much to impress his more experienced
colleagues.

Doctor Joletta Pierce raised her hand. Smiling at the attractive
young Medic, Will Benson nodded silently for her to proceed.

Joletta Pierce drew in a deep breath, then dawned an
uncharacteristically serious expression. "Whenever anyone
receives authorization from Starfleet to view a past time through
the Guardian of Forever, we are cautioned not to do anything to
change history. As all of you are I'm sure aware, time travel
into the past has the risk of making changes which ripple forward
to affect the time traveler's present or `home time'."

Joletta eased back into her chair, and then continued, "The
somewhat ambitious proposal of viewing a future time has an
additional set of risks. The most immediate danger would be the
risk of affecting the `home time' directly through bringing back
advanced knowledge."

Holding up a slender, well manicured index finger, she then
proceeded with a familiar analogy. "For example, when a more
advanced civilization meets a tribe of lesser technological
development, the development of the more primitive group of
people suffers irreparable damage."

Joletta then leaned forward in her chair to conclude, "Therefore
bringing back advanced knowledge to the `hometime,' will result
in changes affecting millions of people, from the present on into
the future." Shaking her head Joletta added, "Even if possible
future time exploration would be just too much of a risk."

Will Benson nodded. "Thank you, Joletta." Then looking around the
table, Will asked. "Does anyone else have any comments either,
for or against?"

Rosanna Davidson slowly rose her hand. Will nodded, smiling
reassuringly, and made a manual gesture indicating the floor was
open.

Rosanna returned a timid smile, then quietly proceeded. "Although
I'm not a professional historian, as a scientist, I find the
proposed question of studying the future has a certain scientific
fascination. However, I am nevertheless inclined to agree with
Doctor Pierce's conclusions."

Rosanna Davidson had a reputation of being an unshakably rational
individual with a firm respect for sanctity of history. Following
her brief contribution, it appeared that the general consensus of
the group was that time travel, and/or exploration into the
future would be an unprecedented risk.

Doctor Richard Mathias furrowed his eyebrows, sat back in his
chair and mused silently, It seems to be a consistent fact of
life that the very young and the very old are those who tend to
be ignored whenever they suggest an idea viewed as unusual or too
risky. Mathias paused then thought indignantly, Too risky indeed!

He bitterly reflected that his assignment to the Memory Alpha
project was a retirement present, like being given a gold watch,
getting a sympathetic handshake and then being sent out to
pasture to be forgotten. Well, he was determined NOT to be
forgotten! Doctor Mathias' expression then returned to its more
usual dourness as he realized that both he and Adam McNeil shared
the same social stigma as potential misfits.



*****

Weeks later, Doctor William Benson, head of the Project Memory
Alpha team, sat at his personal computer terminal on Gateway. He
had been brooding over the report which he felt duty bound to
write to the Head of the Historical Records Department of the
Starfleet Institute of Galactic History. Will had called in his
close and dear friend Richard Mathias earlier that day to rehash
their continuing personal disagreement over which of them was
best qualified to be Project Supervisor. Sighing, he sat back in
his

chair as he mentally reviewed the interaction.

"Mathias, we've known each other many years and, well, we have
different ways of handling group situations," Will Benson had
begun. "Chai Hecuba admires your teaching ability; however, this
project requires a different manner of discipline. These people
here are all professionals and highly trained"

"Highly trained!" Richard Mathias had objected. "Hell, that young
Adam McNeil is not much more than a child! William, these people
deserve the most experienced person to be in charge of this
project."

Will Benson was known to have an extraordinary amount of
patience, however with his friend's unfortunate refusal to accept
the situation, Will's patience had begun to wear thin. Will had
attempted to quell his friend's steadily mounting frustration
level through positive reinforcement.

"Yes, and your many years of experience--"

Mathias had interrupted Will Benson, shouting angrily and
pounding his fist on the desk, "My many years of experience are
being wasted!"

Will had become more than a little annoyed by this time,
nevertheless he had managed, just barely, to control his temper.

"Now wait a minute Mathias, just because you're no longer in
front of a classroom as the center of attention."

Mathias' attention span had decreased to a millisecond as he
continued to shout, not attending to what his friend was saying.

"You've had half the years of researching and studying historical
records that I have, and so it seems to me that my background
would make me the `logical' choice for project head!"

Then speaking as calmly as he could, Will responded. "Doctor
Mathias, your background, albeit impressive, was not the only
qualification which Doctor Hecuba considered important when he
decided who should be Project Supervisor. Doctor Hecuba felt that
the position required someone with an `even-tempered' ability to
respond toward a variety of situations."

Mathias had leaned forward placing his hands onto Will Benson's
desk, and carefully worded his response in a deliberately
controlled manner, as if explaining a simple problem to an
unusually dense student.

"`Even-tempered' achieves results more slowly than discipline and
a strict hand."

Returning to a standing position, looking down at Benson, Mathias
had continued bitterly, "These people don't have the creative
vision to see beyond their current assignment!"

Will Benson could, and should not have had to tolerate any more
of this. Not only was Mathias abusing their friendship, but he
was also refusing to look at the situation objectively. After he
had waited quietly for Mathias to finish speaking, Benson had
stated his own ultimatum as professionally, and as gently as he
could. "Richard, you were chosen for the position for which you
were temperamentally qualified. Your fellow colleagues deserve
your support and your cooperation. If you don't feel that you can
manage, somehow, to put forth your best effort, then I will be
forced to discharge you from all your responsibilities here. I'm
sorry."

Mathias, having seen that the conversation had reached a
stale-mate, silently turned and sullenly left the main hut.

Sadly shaking his head Will Benson recalled watching as his
friend had walked away, then returned to the writing of the
progress report.

To: Institute of Galactic History, Department of Historical
Records

Attention: Doctor Chai Hecuba, Head of Institute of Galactic
History

Progress Report--Stardate 2386.05

Doctor Chai Hecuba:

The accumulation of historical and scientific data for entry into
the Memory Alpha main computer is proceeding as scheduled.

I have however become aware of a matter of potential concern
regarding Doctor Richard B. Mathias. Being the oldest and most
experienced historian here, Mathias has expressed his opinion
that he should have been selected as team supervisor. Doctor
Joletta K. Pierce, our resident Psychologist, has noted that this
apparent feeling of resentment might affect his work.

Although Doctor Mathias' work has not yet suffered, his
relationship with the other historians has been deteriorating
steadily since our arrival here. I have spoken to him about my
concern and it is my hope that he will find a way to resolve his
resentful feelings towards me.

Sincerely, 



Doctor William H. Benson 

Memory Alpha Project Supervisor 



-8-



"Futura pugnant ne se superari sinant." 
(The future struggles against being mastered.) 
Latin Proverb 



Just beyond the security area surrounding the Guardian were a
small group of makeshift shelters which provided living,
recreation and working quarters for the Memory Alpha team.
Between the main office structure and the dormitory stood the
recreation bungalow. Inside, Doctor Richard Mathias and Doctor
Rosanna Davidson sat at a table engaged in an intense discussion.

Pounding his clenched right fist firmly against the table,
Mathias leaned intently forward in his chair. "Rose, we have
access to, and Starfleet's permission to make use of, the only
device known to us which can provide us with historical data from
different times, and I believe it is our scientific duty no, more
than that I think it is our obligation to obtain whatever
historical data we can! Do I remember correctly that even you
intimated that there was a certain scientific interest in the
idea of viewing a future time?"

Sighing, Rosanna responded patiently, "Doctor Mathias, my
arguments regarding the question of making use of the Guardian to
study the Future was hypothetical and dealt with historical and
scientific revelations. In reality, if there were such a
possibility as exploring the future, the risk factor of such an
experience--"

Mathias then threw himself against the back of his chair,
spreading out his hands opened palm upward to punctuate his
mounting frustration. "Doctor Davidson, Rose, I realize that
there are inherent risk factors whenever a person travels into
another time, but I would estimate the risk factor involved if we
could make a trip into the future..."

Rose, shaking her head, interrupted, anticipating where her
esteemed colleague's argument was leading. "Mathias, I can
understand your wanting to know what the future has in store but"

Leaning forward again, Mathias interrupted placing both hands
clasped together in a praying gesture. "Rose, hear me out!
Please! A chance to experience the future would be the historical
and scientific breakthrough of the millennium, and as I started
to say before, I believe the risk factor for such an experience
would be minimal."

Rose suspected from the impassioned manner with which he
approached his argument that Mathias' interest in the future was
more than professional curiosity. She saw in Mathias' eyes the
look of. what? It was a childlike excitement. No, it was much
more than that, it was the look of a man so obsessed with an idea
that his ability to reason had become impaired.

Rosanna recognized also that, in his current state of mind, if
Mathias attempted to fulfill his, as yet, undeclared intention to
view the future, it would result in a number of inevitable and
potentially irreparable consequences. Instead of his interest
being merely to learn from the past, his desire was to know what
the future will have to offer, and it made little difference as
far as its potential for affecting another time.

Rosanna leaned forward in her chair. Then lacing her fingers
together and placing her hands onto the table in front of her,
proceeded to speak in a calm quiet tone. "Mathias, there are as
many chances to alter the course of history by going into the
future as there would be by going into the past."

Mathias, however, had reached the point where his need to leave
some extraordinary accomplishment behind overpowered his
professional responsibility toward the sanctity of history. There
was an imploring, entreating tone to his voice. "Yes! But Rose,
we could also help to make the future even better than it will
be. The chances of altering the course of history for better, or
for worse, going in either direction in time, are risks we must
take if we hope to expand our horizon of knowledge!"

At this point, Rosanna could see that Mathias' mind was set, and
was naturally concerned about what her friend and colleague might
be intending. She preferred to give Mathias the benefit of the
doubt that he would not attempt to do something either foolish or
dangerous. Nevertheless, Rosanna thought it might still be wise
to seek out the project team Psych./Med. Officer, Doctor Joletta
Pierce and discretely discuss her concerns. At this decision
Rosanna politely excused herself from further participation in
the discussion with Mathias.

As Rosanna left the Recreation bungalow she spotted Doctor
Joletta Pierce across the compound talking and laughing with a
couple of Security officers. There were only about a half a dozen
Security personnel who were permanently stationed on Gateway. Two
Security officers were always standing guard near the work site
around the Guardian. The Security team changed guard in rotation
every four hours just like clock work, you could calibrate your
wrist chronometer by it. This seemed to Rosanna to be a waste of
valuable Starfleet man power, after all, ever since Starfleet's
strict quarantine of Planet Gateway, only a small, select group
of historians and scientists, were ever given special permission
to be on the planet. What possible trouble could a small group of
dedicated, responsible historians and scientist get into, or
cause? Rosanna thought.

Doctor Joletta Pierce had been assigned to come along with the
Project Memory Alpha team in accordance with a Starfleet
regulation which stated that a Starfleet approved, qualified
Psych/Med. Officer must be included in the roster of personnel,
crew, and/or passengers of all interstellar traveling vessels. So
her purpose on Gateway was purely as a precautionary measure.
Joletta, known to her friends as Joli, had a relaxed, jovial
personality which put anyone she was with at ease.

That is probably why she is so good at her job. Rosanna
reflected. Rosanna approached quietly. Then once having gotten
their attention asked, "Joli, excuse me for intruding, but I was
wondering if I might have a moment of your time to discuss a
personal matter of concern?"

Joli stopped laughing, as she observed the serious expression on
Rosanna Davidson's face. Studying the expression with clinical
carefulness Joli decided that Rosanna's expression appeared to be
no more, or less serious than it usually was. "Yes, of course,
Rose. What can I do you for?"

Joli's response was in a manner of lighthearted teasing in the
attempt to coax out a smile. Joletta always seemed to be in good
spirits, and wanted to bring out the same in others. However,
when the situation called for a professional attitude, she would
respond with sincere concern and utmost doctor-patient
confidentiality. Not getting the first response she wanted,
Joli's face became a less weighty reflection of the expression on
Rosanna's face. Placing a solicitous hand on Rosanna's shoulder,
Joli nodded. "Yes, of course, Rose."

Ushering Rosanna gently toward the designated office bungalow
Joletta then added, "Let's go talk in my office." Then the two
women proceeded silently back across the compound to the
Infirmary bungalow. Joletta waved back to the two security guards
loudly prescribing, "Keep your spirits up."

Inside her office Joli pulled a chair around setting it down
beside Rosanna. The expression on the troubled young woman's face
appeared as if the world were about to end. Joli placed a hand
gently over Rosanna's delicate slender hands which were folded
neatly in her lap and asked, "You look troubled. What is the
problem, Rose?"

Rosanna let out a long concerned sigh. "Joli, first, I'm not
certain whether there actually is a problem. My facts were
gathered under less than dependable circumstances."

Joli gave a reassuring smile and nodded. "All right, Rose, tell
me what facts you do have, what the source of the information is,
and from that we can deduce whether or not there is a problem."

Rose sighed again, and began recounting the disturbing
conversation she'd had earlier with Richard Mathias. When Rose
had finished speaking, Joli got up, went over to her desk and
picked up a copy of a letter she'd been given earlier by Will
Benson. She stood poised by her desk for a moment and skimmed the
last page of the letter:

I have become aware of Doctor Richard Mathias' apparent
resentment toward me for having been chosen to head this project.
This `apparent feeling of resentment' could become a potentially
serious problem...



Joli placed the letter back onto her desk, and went back around
to where Rose was still seated, now with a curious expression.
"What was the document you were reviewing, Joli?"

Joli sat down looking uncharacteristically grim, then after a
moment of silent thought, sighed and responded, "Well, I'm not at
liberty to tell you, but, Rose, I'm glad you brought to my
attention your concern regarding the conversation between you and
Mathias. I'll keep a clinical eye open and try to divert him from
pursuing a destructive course of action."

Feeling satisfied with having come to Doctor Pierce with her
suspicions, Rosanna stood, shook Joletta's hand, thanked her for
her time, and left the office. As Joletta watched Rosanna leave,
she sighed, "I have my work cut out for me with Mathias." This
was the first incident to occur since their arrival on Gateway
requiring her expertise as Psych/Med. Shaking her head, she
silently thanked God that her presence there had not been
necessary, up to now. Pulling her chair back to its normal place
at her desk, Joli sat down, then picked up the Personnel file on
Doctor Richard B. Mathias and began studying it more carefully.



*****

Doctor Richard Mathias and Adam McNeil stood, tricorders in hand,
recording the images of history which were rapidly flowing within
the center of the Guardian. Adam sighed, his eyebrows furrowed in
deep thought. "I wonder what happened to the civilization that
made this thing?"

The sudden cessation of silence invaded Mathias' thoughts, and
brought him abruptly back to the present. Turning his head, he
glanced in the direction of his young associate. Doctor Richard
Mathias, the most experienced member of the Project Memory Alpha
team, felt like an old dog whose nap had been disturbed by an
excited puppy. The wide-eyed innocent youth standing beside him
made Mathias feel the years ten-fold. Adam McNeil's respectful
stance and excited, intent countenance brought an amused
expression to Mathias' somber face. A rhetorical question, if
ever I heard one! Mathias thought.

Doctor Mathias silently stood before the inscrutable Guardian of
Forever. This was his last year before retirement, and he was
determined to gain the recognition which he felt Starfleet had
denied him by giving the command of the Memory Alpha Project to a
subordinate. Since he was facing an uncertain future, Richard
Mathias wanted desperately to be known for having achieved
something no one else has ever attempted before. The thought of
leaving nothing of great significance behind therefore urged
Mathias to try to go into the future. They call themselves
historians, and scientists, yet they're only concern is for what
has already happened! he thought indignantly.

Then with an unreadable, distant expression, Mathias thought to
himself. The future is just as much a part of the fourth
dimension as is the past and present. If we could see the future
we'd learn how to change the present and improve upon the future!
By studying the past we are only finding out what we did wrong!

Adam and Mathias had been busy recording the images from the
Guardian for the last several hours. Adam looked up from his
tricorder, stretched and studied his wrist chronometer. Three
hours of their four hour shift were over with only one more hour
to go. He had purposely decided not to take his break at the
usual halfway mark. Adam thought, If an old man like Mathias can
stand here for three straight hours, at his age, and not complain
about it, then so can I!

Moments later, trying to suppress a yawn, Adam finally succumbed
to the need for a respite. Adam then announced his attention to
take a break. "Doctor Mathias, I think I'd like to go to the Rec.
Hut for a cup of tea. Would you care to join me?"

Mathias looked over to his young associate teasing him with a
ribbing remark. "I thought history was your most favorite subject
of all!" Mathias chortled briefly to himself, then nodded, waving
his hand in a motion of consent at Adam to take a coffee break.
"No, thank you. You go on ahead. I think I'd like to stay here
just a while longer, I'll be along shortly."

Adam switched off his tricorder, set it down, and headed toward
the Recreation Hut. Mathias continued his data recording until he
was certain that his young colleague had passed by the Security
watch. Mathias switched off his own tricorder and, setting it
down next to Adam's tricorder, peered over his shoulder to see
how far away the two Security officers were standing. Mathias
then turned back around and, in a low whispered voice, instructed
the Guardian to cease its current activity. Immediately the

center of the Guardian resumed its restful state showing misty,
nebulous swirls of colors. Mathias stood transfixed, staring
mesmerized into the swirling patterns of color. His heart rate
and adrenaline flow increased as he peered over his shoulder once
again to make certain the Security guards would not detect his
actions.

Mathias approached the Guardian slowly, stopping when he felt he
was close enough to use a stage whisper, intended to be heard
only by the Guardian. Mathias recalled the first time he'd heard
the Guardian speak and how the austere stateliness of its voice
seemed to reverberate through him. Mathias hoped the Guardian
would sense his physical closeness and respond by lowering the
tone of its own vocal responses to compensate.

Mathias took in a deep breath, then spoke in anxious hushed
tones. "Guardian of Forever." Mathias stood transfixed holding
his breath while he waited for the Guardian's response.

The Guardian had, in fact, sensed Mathias' proximity to it and
decreased the volume of its `voice' to a low rumble. "To whence
do you wish to travel, and from whence come ye?"

Mathias stepped back, instinctively clasping a hand to his chest.
Even at its reduced volume the intensity of Guardian's
magnificent voice vibrated through his body like an electrostatic
charge. Mathias stood quietly, his right hand clutching his
heart. He waited with bated breath to see if anyone had heard the
Guardian speak. When no one showed an interest in what he was
doing, Mathias cautiously continued, "I come from elsewhere, and
I wish to `return to' the else when of Planet Samara, year 3074."

Mathias then stood quietly wondering whether the Guardian was
sophisticated enough to detect that it was being deceived.

The Guardian's center began shifting and forming into multi-hued
moire patterns. This startled Mathias for he'd never seen the
Guardian do anything like this before. Perhaps it was confused,
Mathias thought. Then Mathias shook his head incredulously at the
thought of the Guardian of Forever being confused by an old,
over-the-hill historian such as himself. No, that's ridiculous.
Mathias continued thinking. Well, even if I never actually do see
what the future looks like, confusing the Guardian of Forever was
most certainly an accomplishment in itself! Mathias laughed
nervously and waited to see what other little surprises the
Guardian had in store to show him.

The Guardian spoke again, only this time its `voice' sounded
strange somehow. "Time is open to all who wish to visit a time
and place passed. The place you wish to return to is now called
Samara."

Mathias gaped at the Guardian, uttering to himself in amazement,
and whispered, "My God, I've done it! How could it be so easy?"

The Guardian, hearing this, asked Mathias, "Do you ask a
question?"

Startled, Mathias realized that the Guardian had overheard him
talking to himself just then. Shaking his head, and moving
closer, Mathias said in a hushed, panicked voice, "Oh, no! No
,I'm not asking a question. I was merely thinking aloud."

The center of the Guardian, still with strange churning
colorations, began to solidify into, into what? It was a fuzzy
image of a place in time somewhere. Mathias thought for a moment
about what he should do next. His heart beat excitedly. His
breathing was quick and gasping. He'd never remembered feeling
quite this way before, and hoped that he wasn't having a heart
attack. Then the image within the Guardian's center gradually
became clearer.

Mathias thought excitedly, Yes! The image looks like Samara, and
the area surrounding the ChenAra Mountains! Before Mathias could
think another thought, he jumped through.



-9-



"L'innocence enffin n'a rien a redouter." 
(Innocence has nothing to dread.) 
from Phedre 
by Jean Baptiste Racine 



During the year 2500 on Samara, a Scholar whose special interest
and knowledge was in the field of astrophysics discovered the
existence of a Time Line Window, or periodical Time warp,
allowing access to the Fourth dimension. In the years that
followed, the Scholars learned as much about the Time Window as
they could. For example, they observed that Time Window's
frequency of occurrence was every 30 years remaining sufficiently
dilated to permit passage `to' and `from' a specific past time
for a period of five days. They debated whether they had the
wisdom to use such knowledge, and of what application such
knowledge could be.

The Scholars viewed time as an ongoing stream in which the
recorded events of history were immutable. History, therefore,
could not be altered or radically changed simply by sending
someone into the past. Events of history could only be `locally'
affected as in a "local time disturbance." One may create a
`ripple' on the surface of the stream by diving into the past,
but one cannot alter the flow of time itself anymore than a
swimmer affects the course of a river. Anything appearing to
change the past has already become a part of the time stream, and
a part of history. The Scholars reasoned therefore that the only
risk in sending someone into the past was a risk to the
individual, not a risk to time or history.

The Scholars discussed the possibilities for using the Time
Window weighing the known factors and risks. However, considering
the potential for acquiring knowledge from their past which might
teach them how to better serve the people of Samara, the Scholars
voted to send a volunteer Scholar through the Time Window into
the past. As a result of this experiment the Scholars considered
what other educational value for time travel the Time Window
might serve.

The volunteer Scholar brought back valuable historical
information regarding the sociological development not
specifically detailed in any of the known historical planetary
records. The desire for emotional satisfaction and the expression
of man's animal nature had been more widely indulged in by a much
larger percentage of the planet's population than was reported by
the history books.

For more than two centuries the Scholars had been using the Eban
Nashon Min'Da to help neutralize the expression of negative
violent emotions and so the occurrence of violent behavior among
the people of Samara had become considerably subdued. The
Scholar's present time was tranquil and well ordered and
therefore presented only limited opportunities for development of
certain character traits which prove helpful when having to deal
with some of man's more violent emotions, otherwise known as
man's `dark side.'

Most of the novices had never been exposed to such unfamiliar
violent elements of human behavior. The Scholars outlined and
talked over how the novices could benefit from being sent into a
past time. They believed it to be important that their students
know how to handle encounters with unaccustomed violent behavior.
The occurrences of irrational emotional indulgence, however rare,
still existed on Samara. So the idea of a Test of Character was
proposed to help choose a select group of qualified young Novices
as candidates to serve on the council of scholars--the Sigrad.

The Test of Character presented an opportunity for the Novices to
examine their ability to recognize the `good' and `evil'
character in others, learning when to trust and when to be
suspicious, then how to respond wisely and intelligently. The
Scholars speculated that the best test of character for their
young novices would be when an accurate judgment of character
played a vital role in the individual's survival. The Past was a
time when there was more violence and less trust and provided for
the chosen

Novices the necessary exposure to lesser civilized, more
emotionally oriented periods of their history. Within such
violent periods of past history the Novices were required to be
vigilant at all times.

The Scholars agreed on a basic set of rules of conduct by which
the `success' or `failure' of the chosen Novices would be
measured. Those who managed to survive the Test of Character
without disregarding the Scholars' teachings would then be
considered for acceptance into the Sigrad.

A Novice's untimely death as a result of accident, murder, or
suicide however, was the ultimate and most obvious means of
failure of the Test of Character. In the instance of a Novice's
death, at the moment of brain death, the sacred Eban Nashon
Min'Da and the deceased Novice would be automatically returned
back to their "home time." Other criteria for failure of the Test
of Character included the misuse of the Eban Nashon Min'Da for
self profit, or to gain advantage or power over another.

The Scholars decided that following the Test of Character each of
the novices were to be debriefed by a sponsor Scholar. During the
debriefing the novices would be expected to give a detailed
account of the five days spent in the Past for future reference.

The Eban Nashon Min'Da, a tool used as a neutralizer of negative
emotions, served also as a useful tool for the sponsor Scholars
as it enabled the wearer to achieve an extraordinary and a very
useful insight into the character and motivations of others. This
insight would give the interviewing Scholar an accurate appraisal
of the novice's performance on his Test of Character. The sponsor
Scholars would need to appraise the Test debriefing to assess
performance of each of the tested novices then would convene in
private chambers to make the final choice of which of the novices
is most worthy to be accepted into the Sigrad.



*****

In the year 2920 deep within a hollowed out cave a gathering of
eleven hooded figures stood in solemn silence, their heads bent
in prayer. Kadem Aleem, who wore the white robe as one of two
remaining elder Scholars lifted his head to speak:

"The most Ancient of Scholars, the twelfth member of the Sigrad,
has passed on. We are all saddened by his departure, however it
is as nature intended it should be. It is time now to select a
Novice to fill the twelfth place within the Sigrad."

The Scholars set about selecting the most worthy of their Novice
students. Many young people come to the ChenAra Mountains from
all over Samara to be taught by the Scholars. The class of
novices consisted of a carefully selected group of 20 young men
and women ranging between 14 and 18 years of age. Of the twenty
Novice students three Novices who qualify as a potential
replacement to fill the twelfth place on the Sigrad are
eventually chosen to be readied for the honor of taking the Test
of Character.

Qualification for such an honor was determined by the student's
strengths in a particular area of study. The deceased Scholar's
field of study and knowledge had been History, Mythology and
Religion so the Novices chosen for the Test of Character needed
also to have a strong background in these three subjects. The
chosen Novices had each demonstrated an interest and a high
aptitude for assimilation in the required fields of study.

The Scholar whose responsibility it was to give the chosen
Novices their instruction was Kadem Aleem, who now held the
position of Elder Scholar. Kadem Aleem had been carefully
instructing the chosen novices who had been in training to become
members of the Sigrad. His face was lined with age, and his eyes
showed great wisdom and patience as he spoke to the young hopeful
novices.

"You are to undergo the Test of Character, and return, before any
of you may count yourselves as worthy to serve on the Sigrad."

Kadem Alim's words left an ominous air. The young novices, of
course, were each eager to prove themselves worthy, and, at the
same time, fearful of what they would be experiencing.

The time window would soon be open and it would be time for each
of the newly chosen novices to pass separately through the Window
into their preselected pasts. Their Test of Character was to
survive for five days within a more primitive, emotionally
oriented social structure, and to do so without using the Eban
Nashon Min'Da. Each of chosen the Novices wore the Eban Nashon to
serve as a homing device to be used only as a means of getting
them back to their "home time" upon the completion of the Test.

The novices passed through the Window one by one into the
separate pasts chosen for each of them. Cahil Aliim, who was the
youngest of the chosen novices, was also the last of the novices
to pass through the Time Window. He stood anxious and ready to
enter the Time Window to embark upon his Test of Character the
result of which would determine his future. As it came to be his
turn, Cahil Aliim closed his eyes, said a silent prayer for inner
strength and guidance, then he proceeded through the time window
into the past time which had been selected for him by the
Scholars.



-10- 

"Le savoir a son prix." 
(Knowledge has its own price.) 
from L'Anantage de la Science 
by Jean De La Fontaine 



Following his incredible leap through Time, Mathias became aware
of his new surroundings, and immediately recognized the spot
where the Guardian had deposited him. The majestic ChenAra
Mountains were about one point six kilometers behind him, and he
could see a sizable city approximately six point four kilometers
away. Mathias assumed it was the capitol city of Kadar, if that
indeed was still its name. He set out on a dirt road toward the
city in the distance. Mathias' face was flushed with excitement
as he walked along. He had an uncharacteristically happy
expression on his face and his heart was beating wildly, as he
thought, I'm here! I'm really here! I'm in the Future! This is
probably the most significant and thrilling thing that will ever
happened to me!


As he came up on the outskirts of the city, Mathias then realized
that he needed to secure a change of clothes, and to establish an
identity for himself if he wanted to find out about the people in
this time. He kept his eyes open for an opportunity to `acquire'
an appropriate disguise, and kept his mind working on what would
be a plausible `undercover' identity for himself. Mathias noticed
in the distance a small band of people carrying sacks coming
toward him on the path. To avoid premature discovery by any of
the natives Mathias was preparing to dart into an empty shed when
he realized that the approaching individuals were dressed in the
robes of the Scholars. Mathias noted that the steadily
approaching band of solemn hooded beings first appeared to be
very like the Scholars of the ChenAra Mountains of his own time.
Mathias had learned about the Scholars through his assigned
historical research of Samara. He knew by their reputation, that
they would not prejudge him in any way as to what his motives or
purpose there might be.

Mathias drew in breath, slowly let it out, then glancing down at
his current attire decided to make some quick alterations. He
rubbed dirt on his pants and shirt, smudged his face just a
little to make it seem as though he had fallen upon hard times
then started walking toward the hooded figures.

This will be my very first contact with people from the future!
Mathias thought incredulously to himself.

Mathias approached, nodded respectfully and smiled to the small
group of Scholars.

"Hello," he said.

The Scholars returned his greeting only by nodding gravely back.
Mathias had also learned from his research of the Scholars of his
own time that they were a verbally thrifty sect. So he wasn't
disturbed by their taciturn response. Mathias continued.

"I'm a stranger here."

The Scholar wearing a light tan colored robe, who Mathias assumed
to be the leader, gave a verbal response while the others stood
quietly.

"Yes. Are you in need of assistance, Stranger?"

Mathias explained, "I am heading toward the city to try to find
work. I will have nowhere to stay once I get to the city, and,
yes, I am in need of something warm to put over me to protect
myself from the cold."

The Scholar silently looked at Mathias for a few moments, and
then he turned to one of his subordinate companions. He spoke to
the younger Scholar in quiet tones. Then the Scholar wearing the
dark colored robe reached into his sack, pulled out a neatly
folded bundle of dark material and respectfully handed it to the
elder Scholar, who in turn offered the bundle to Mathias. The
Scholars then nodded and proceeded on their way. Mathias stood
watching as the Scholars headed solemnly toward the ChenAra
Mountains. He then glanced down at the offering he'd been handed
and, unfolding it, noticed that was in fact a Scholar's robe!

My best bet for gathering information, he thought, would be if I
could pass myself off as a Scholar from the ChenAra Mountains!

So Mathias rolled up his pant legs and shirt sleeves, draped the
robe over himself, then continued on his way toward the city.
Mathias realized that he had to be very careful from here on not
to be too emotionally demonstrative. He made a conscious effort
to adopt the same solemn expression on his face which he'd seen
on the faces of the Scholars. He then continued on toward the
city. Mathias was nearing a weather worn stone tavern on the
outskirts of the city from which he could hear the sounds of
laughter and talking. He peered in through the swinging wooden
doors and saw that the room was filled with a wide variety of
people. As Mathias entered the small crowded tavern he seemed to
become the center of everyone's attention.

Apparently it's not normal to see a Scholar coming into a place
like this, Mathias thought nervously to himself. Mathias felt
like an unusual specimen being analyzed on a scientist's
microscanner, and considered leaving the tiny crowded tavern,
then decided it would probably not undo the apparent error.
Mathias attempted to cover his conspicuousness by seeming to have
a definite purpose for his being there and solemnly edged his way
over to the bar. A young man dressed in peasant clothes sat at
the bar observing Mathias with a curious expression. Mathias sat
down beside the young man and nodded a silent greeting. The young
man returned the silent greeting. Mathias tried not to think
about those people who were still observing them.

He thought, I have only about thirty minutes of time away from my
own present here, I want to find out as much as I can before I
must return. How do I begin? I don't want to make myself any more
conspicuous than I already have.

Mathias decided to initiate a conversation with the curious young
man hoping that this would seem like a normal action on the part
of a Scholar. Mathias remembered the very first question he had
been asked by the Scholars on the road and so he confidently
turned to face the young man who was still watching Mathias
askance.

"Young Stranger, is there something I can do for you?"

Cahil Aliim continued to stare at Mathias for a few moments then
asked, "Are you a Novice?"

Mathias had made at least one faux pas since adopting the guise
of a Scholar, his first mistake was coming into the tavern.
Mathias realized that too many more inconsistencies in his
behavior and his cover as a Scholar would be destroyed. Fearing
that he may have inadvertently said something out of character,
Mathias hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding to
the young man's question and apparent confusion.

"Yes, I am. Is something wrong?"

Cahil Aliim smiled still looking slightly confused, his eyes
glanced downward, shook his head, then his right hand caressed a
partially hidden object which seemed to be hanging from a chain
around his neck.

"No. Nothing is wrong. It's just that I've never seen a Novice of
your"

Cahil Aliim paused for a moment trying to find an inoffensive way
to complete his response with reference to the age of his newest
acquaintance. Then decided that there wasn't a graceful way out,
and repeated with embarrassed reassurance, "No, there is nothing
wrong."

Mathias could barely see the object from underneath his cowl. But
seemed to be an unusual looking medallion. His scientific
curiosity had been aroused and so Mathias made a mental note to
ask the young man about the object on the chain. Cahil Aliim, sat
quietly, feeling concerned that he was not making the best use of
his Test of Character by focusing his attention on a minor
inconsistency in the Ancient Novice's behavior. He then turned,
facing the Ancient Novice to make amends for his previous social

slip and timidly asked, "May I offer you some refreshment
Novice?"

Not knowing what the proper response should be, Mathias was
thirsty and he politely accepted the young man's kind offer, "You
are most kind young Stranger. I would like a glass of water."

Cahil Aliim ordered a glass of water for the ancient Novice and
another tumbler of the local brew for himself. Once served, Cahil
Aliim sat quietly drinking, his right hand once again played
unconsciously with the object underneath his vest, and he seemed
to be extremely uncomfortable under Mathias' close scrutiny.


Mathias also sat quietly feeling as if he were not making the
best use of what little time he had. He needed to bring something
tangible representing this other time back to his own time.
Without some physical proof which he could show to the people at
the Institute of Galactic History he couldn't reasonably expect
anyone to believe that he'd really gone into the future. Mathias
sat silently thinking for a while. Deciding to break the silence,
he asked the young man about the object hanging on the ch

ain around his neck.

"Excuse me young Stranger, that is a most interesting looking
medallion you're wearing, may I see it?"

Cahil Aliim who had been gazing thoughtfully into his tumbler
looked up startled. He looked back down at his medallion and his
hand touched it almost lovingly. Mathias waited for a response to
his request. Cahil Aliim sat quietly trying to remember if the
Scholar masters had given him any instructions or warnings not to
allow people look at his medallion, then after a few moments of
careful consideration, was unable to remember any such
instructions. Then Cahil Aliim lifted his medallion and held it
out so that Mathias could see it more clearly. The medallion was
a tarnished yellow gold color, and about the size of his great,
great grandfather's antique pocket watch. Mathias also noticed
what appeared to be some sort of bas-relief symbols on its
outward facing surface.

"It is called Eban Nashon Min'Da."

Mathias became increasingly more intrigued by the Eban Nashon
Min'Da as the young man spoke the words with a religious
reverence. As Mathias looked more closely at the strange markings
on the front of the medallion, he continued to ask questions.

"What is the significance of these markings?"

Cahil Aliim had been given very specific instructions that, under
no circumstances, was he to reveal to the natives of this time
period the nature of Eban Nashon Min'Da. However, the ancient
robed stranger was a Novice like himself and so Cahil Aliim felt
that the Scholar masters from his own time would not disapprove
of his selectively revealing some of the knowledge of the Eban
Nashon Min'Da to another Novice.

"The Eban Nashon Min'Da was developed long ago by a Scholar named
Kerel Arri."

Cahil Aliim paused briefly trying to decide how much detail would
be within the limits of approval. The ancient Novice was from a
time in history during which temperament control in terms of
interpreting brain waves and other body field effects such as the
Kirlian Aura did not yet exist.

Cahil continued cautiously, "It was made from a special ore found
deep within the mountains."

Mathias with steadily mounting curiosity asked, "From the ChenAra
Mountains?"

Cahil Aliim feigned ignorance by shrugging his shoulders and
shaking his head to indicate that he didn't know.

Then Mathias asked, "What makes this ore special?"

Cahil Aliim looked at Mathias with an expression comparable to
that of a guilty puppy. Then in a quiet barely audible tone he
answered, "The metal has properties which allow the wearers of
the Eban Nashon Min'Da to perform their ordained
responsibilities."

This response was confusing to Mathias. Fascinated he asked
curiously, "Who are the `wearers' of the Eban Nashon Min'Da, and
what are these `ordained responsibilities' to which you refer?"

Mathias's question had confused the young Novice.

How is it that this ancient Novice does not know about his
ordained responsibilities? Cahil Aliim wondered.

During Cahil Aliim's orientation to this time period he had
learned that the Novices of this past time were taught that their
ordained responsibilities were to guide and care for the people
of the planet. After a few moments, he gently caressed his
medallion, and responded cautiously. "We are bound by certain
unspoken moral tenets to propagate peace and social well being."

Mathias then simply frowned, and nodded knowingly.

Cahil Aliim then explained to Mathias that he could say no more
about the Eban Nashon Min'Da, and brought the conversation to a
rather abrupt end.

Mathias's curiosity was not satisfied.

At the other end of the bar an argument had begun between two men
who had apparently had much too much to drink. Their verbal
exchange was rapidly developing into a violent shouting match so
Mathias and the young Novice turned to see what was happening.
One of the two men made some derogatory remark about the other's
manhood comparing it to that of a gelding. Very soon after that
remark the argument between the two men increased in volume to
the point where Mathias could clearly distinguish bits and pieces
of what was being said. Mathias had come from a violence-oriented
time and predicted accurately that the argument was going to
escalate very shortly from a shouting match to combat. Mathias
decided it would be wise for the young man and himself to `get
the Hell out of there' as quickly as possible. Mathias leaned
over to his innocent young companion and quietly urged that they
leave.

"Young man, could we perhaps go elsewhere, of more peaceful
surroundings, and continue to talk?"

To Mathias' surprise Cahil Aliim shook his head `no' to the
entreaty, and continued watching the argument with an almost
scientific interest. Mathias was experiencing a dozen red alerts
going off in his head, and noticed that one of the two combatants
was waving a knife around threateningly. Mathias continued, more
emotively, to try to persuade his naive young new acquaintance
that they should both leave.

"Young man, I really do believe it would be in our best interest
to leave here, NOW!"

Cahil Aliim turned away from watching the ensuing disturbance,
gave Mathias a confused look and shook his head `no', then
returned to watching the fight. Mathias decided that his young
companion needed more affirmative persuasion, grabbed him by the
arm and proceeded as quickly as he could towards the exit
dragging his innocent young new friend along. As Mathias
struggled to keep his hold of the protesting young man he was at
the same time having to duck chairs and other assorted flying
objects. Mathias continued desperately to pull his foolish young
companion slowly to the door. As they were nearing the door
Mathias was becoming once again aware that his time here was
growing short and he would soon be having to return to his own
time. Mathias was feeling very discouraged.

My venture into this other time has not turned out quite the way
I'd imagined it would. I've failed to accomplish anything! he
thought.

Cahil Aliim, who was still trying to observe the violence had
managed to twist his body around facing directly into the melee
and was being pulled backwards towards the tavern's entrance by
the strange ancient Novice. Mathias turned to see an expression
of almost child-like fascination on the unsuspecting young man's
face, then with an urgent sense of total exasperation Mathias
once again got the young man facing back towards the door.

Only minutes prior to their reaching the threshold of the
swinging wooden doors someone reached out toward the young man,
grasped a hold of the chain from around his neck. Cahil Aliim's
expression suddenly changed from fascination to startled fear.
His hands went up to protect his medallion as he turned to head
out the doors. Just at that same moment the man with the knife
shouted some final profanity and threw his knife aiming at the
man who had moments before insulted his manhood. The knife
thrower missed his target as the intended victim ducked.
Unfortunately, Cahil Aliim had not anticipated this aggressive
action. He felt a sudden searing sharp pain in his back between
his ribs on the left side. Mathias had also not noticed the
knife's trajectory or realized that the young man had been its
unwitting target.

As they both stepped outside Mathias let out a sigh of relief and
heard a gasping sound coming from the young man. Mathias looked
over at his companion just as the young man started to sink
slowly to his knees. He had an unbelieving, astonished look on
his face. His medallion's chain had been broken and the medallion
slipped from the young man's hands to fall on the ground. Then
the young man quietly collapsed face first in the dust. This was
when Mathias first realized that his new young friend had been
mortally wounded.

Mathias knelt down beside the body of the motionless young man
and made a rudimentary search for any sign of a heart beat or
pulse. Finding no sign of life, Mathias stood up shaking his head
feeling thoroughly depressed about his trip through time. He
blamed himself in part for the young man's untimely death. He
then noticed the medallion lying beside the body. Mathias knelt
down and picked up the unusual relic from the future. Then, at
that moment, the Guardian whisked him back once again into the
24th century.



*****

Mathias stood gazing into the swirls of colors which now occupied
the center of the Guardian. Sighing, Mathias looked down at the
strange medallion which he held tightly in his hands and thought
about the young man. Mathias heard the sound of Adam McNeil's
voice as he approached the work area. Then, as if having been
brought back from a dream, Mathias snapped out of his reverie,
realizing where he was and quickly threw off his dark hooded robe
and hastily stuffed it into a shoulder bag, to be carried out at
the end of his shift. Placing the medallion into the pocket of
his sweater, he quickly unrolled his pant legs and sleeves
brushing off the dust. Mathias quietly asked the Guardian to
resume its display of Samaran history and, walking to where his
tricorder still lay, picked it up, and turned toward the Guardian
pretending to be deeply involved with his image recording as Adam
arrived.



-11-



"Small opportunities are often the beginning of great enterprises." 
Demosthenes 



Adam returned to the Guardian work site feeling refreshed from
his twenty minute break. "Hi! I'm back!"

Mathias turned abruptly around, and appearing to have been
startled, glared silently at his energetic young protégée.

Figuring that he must have inadvertently interrupted Mathias in
the middle of a particularly captivating era of past history,
Adam then smiled apologetically, quietly picked up his tricorder,
and resumed his own image recording. About five minutes later, in
an attempt to lighten the mood, Adam grinned again and asked
rhetorically, "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

Mathias just nervously glanced over toward his young colleague,
and silently shook his head "no." There was only about 10 minutes
left on their shift during which Mathias' mind contemplated the
ramifications of his remarkable archaeological find from the
future. If I could only find a way of proving that this medallion
came from a future time, just think of the notoriety it would
bring me! Mathias' heart beat rapidly with anticipated excitement
as he continued to imagine what the tiny, insignificant looking
relic of tomorrow could mean for him. He was no longer paying any
attention to the dizzy passage of history racing across the
center of the Guardian. The remaining ten minutes seemed to
literally fly by as Mathias suddenly became aware of someone
speaking to him.

"Doctor Mathias? Excuse me, Doctor Mathias." Adam's expression
was a mixture of politely suppressed amusement, and concern.

Returning from the depths of his revere, Mathias took a deep
breath, and looked over toward Adam. "I'm sorry Adam, I was deep
in thought. Did you have a question?"

"No Doctor Mathias," Adam replied respectfully. "I just wanted to
tell you that our shift is over now."

Mathias smiled and nodded. They each turned off their tricorder
and Mathias retrieved his shoulder bag, placing the strap
carefully over his head. They both then quietly left the Guardian
work area.



*****

There was only one week and four days left before their
assignment on Gateway was to be completed. Except during his work
shifts, Mathias continued to keep to himself. Therefore, no one
took particular notice of his going off alone. What was
noticeable, was the increasing level of stress which Mathias
appeared to be under. Mathias' condition became a particular
concern to both Doctor Joletta Pierce and Will Benson. Doctor
Pierce conjectured that Richard Mathias could sense his
approaching retirement, which, compounded with the generally felt
impending conclusion of their three week stint on Gateway,
resulted in a heightened stress level. Will Benson was reasonably
satisfied with this explanation, and so took no extraordinary
action.



*****

Richard Mathias made full use of his time alone to examine the
medallion. Sitting on the edge of his meticulously made cot,
Mathias removed the medallion from his pocket, and stared at it.

Mathias began thinking about the young man, Cahil Aliim, whom he
had met in the tavern during his secret trip through time.
Although Cahil Aliim didn't reveal much about the medallion,
Mathias had good reason to suspect that there was more to it than
it's being simply a piece of interesting looking jewelry. Cahil
Aliim had called it "the Eban Nashon Min'Da," and said that it
was developed long ago by a Scholar from a special ore. Mathias
then recalled Cahil Aliim as stating, rather cryptically, that
the

metal had properties which allowed the "wearers" of the Eban
Nashon Min'Da to perform their "ordained responsibilities."

Mathias figured it would be within reason to assume that the
"wearers" of the Eban Nashon Min'Da were probably Scholars. A
Scholar invented the thing.

Mathias continued to look down at the medallion in his hand
examining the unusual designs on the front of the medallion.
Then, rather suddenly, he began to experience an unexpected
feeling of hypnotic euphoria. Mathias gasped in surprise and
dropped the medallion onto the floor. He retraced the steps which
led to this phenomena. He then remembered how Cahil Aliim kept
handling the medallion. Maybe there's some vibratory, or radian
signal which emanates from the front of the medallion whenever it
is touched in a certain way!

Mathias cautiously bent down and picked up the medallion, being
careful to have the front of it facing away from him. Mathias
then softly mused aloud. "How can I test my theory safely,
without arousing suspicions? The last thing I need is for someone
to inquire, `Where did you find that medallion?'"

Mathias looked around to make certain no had been listening, then
tucked the medallion into his pocket, and set off to find an
unsuspecting test subject.



*****

Mathias left the dormitory and, proceeding across the compound,
he spotted Rosanna Davidson and Adam McNeil heading toward the
dining/recreation/meeting bungalow. Mathias smiled and waved.
"Adam, Rosanna, Hello!"

They both stopped and turned with expressions of surprise as they
waited for Mathias who was now approaching.

"Hello Doctor Mathias." Adam McNeil responded with his usual
puppy-like friendliness.

With an expression of seeded suspicion, Rosanna then asked, "Is
there something we can do for you?"

Mathias appeared almost relaxed as he released a sigh. "Yes."
Then, still smiling, he looked at them both, and slowly
continued, "I need to see Adam, alone, just for a moment. There
is something I would like to speak with him about , a private
matter. Would you please excuse us Rosanna?"

Eyebrows furrowed, Rosanna's expression became a portrait of
confusion and concern. She slowly responded, "Yes, Doctor
Mathias, of course." Then as Rosanna glanced at Adam, she saw
growing puzzlement appearing on his boyish face. "I'll see you
later maybe?" There was genuine worry Rosanna's voice.

"Yeah, Rosanna, we'll talk later." There was a hint of
apprehension in his voice.

Rosanna watched helplessly as Mathias and Adam headed toward the
dormitory together.



*****

Sensing the nervousness within his young colleague, Mathias
placed a fatherly arm around Adam. "Relax! I just wanted to talk
to you."

Upon reaching the dorm, Mathias ushered Adam inside.

Adam looked at Mathias with a nervously inquisitive glance.

Mathias sat down on the end of his cot, then indicated a vacant
cot across from his where Adam lowered himself cautiously.

Mathias then casually removed the medallion from his pocket, and
with the front facing Adam, appeared to be fidgeting with it
absentmindedly as he began to speak.

"Adam, we've been here on Gateway now for nearly two weeks, and
in all this time, I've never really taken the time to find out
about your interest in historical research. I was especially
impressed with your suggestion regarding the usage of the
Guardian Forever to view the future."

Confused, Adam smiled sheepishly. "Thank you Doctor Mathias."

Mathias then continued to drone on with praises, observations,
and stories of his own earlier career until he noticed the
presence of a curiously blank look on Adam's normally alert face.

Mathias leaned forward. "Adam?' He whispered gently. Then in a
louder, more normal tone of voice, asked. "Adam, do you hear me?"

Adam's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he nodded. He then responded
in a slow sleepy manner, "Y e s."

Mathias leaned back smiling to himself. He wondered whether the
effect of the medallion was anything like hypnosis. To further
test the potential influence of the medallion, Mathias leaned
forward again and softly made a harmless hypnotic suggestion,
"Adam, you have this sudden desire for a cup of tea."

Adam blinked, and nodded sleepily.

Mathias then put the medallion back into his pocket, helped Adam
up to a standing position, and suggested that they amble over to
the cafeteria bungalow for a cup of tea. Guiding Adam from the
dorm Mathias wondered how long the effect of the medallion would
last.

To Mathias' relief, the hypnotic-like effect lasted only for
about 15 minutes, or the time it took for a very slow saunter to
the cafeteria-for their cup of tea. By the time they had reached
their destination, all had returned (more or less) back to
normal.



*****

Mathias later returned to the privacy of the deserted dorm
bungalow and, while repairing the medallion's broken chain,
brooded over what he was going to be doing with the rest of his
life. Fumbling with the chain's catch, Mathias thought, Without
further tangible proof, I could not convince my esteemed
colleagues of the historical value of the medallion's potential.

Mathias paused, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced toward his
shoulder satchel, which still contained the Scholar's robe he had
been given. Then his eyebrows shot upward as an incredible idea
began to form. His heart began to beat faster as Mathias
carefully picked up the medallion, and placing its chain around
his neck, thought, Considering the "ordained responsibilities" of
the Scholars from the future are to help people, then, I could
return to Samara in my own time and be the very first ChenAra
Mountain Scholar to introduce the use of the medallion to bring
about peace and social well being!



-12-



"Consilium inveniunt multi sed docti explicant." 
(Many receive advice, only the wise profit by it.) 
from Sententiae, No. 124, by Publilius Syrus 



The remaining time on Gateway passed by quickly. On the day prior
to leaving Gateway, the Memory Alpha team of historians gathered
in the recreational building for a final evaluation. Actually,
their last meeting served a dual purpose: first, and foremost, to
satisfy the desk-bound, record keeping officials of The
Department of Galactic Historical Records, to whom every megabyte
of recorded history was to be remanded for immediate download
into the main computers on Memory Alpha, and, secondly, as a last
chance to be together.

Will Benson smiled sadly as he looked around the table at each of
the Project team members. During their time together on Gateway
he'd come to think of them as family. Will Benson gently tapping
a knuckle on the table to call the briefing to order.

"All right, before we move on to a final evaluation, does anyone
have any last minute questions, criticisms, or comments regarding
the Project?"

There was a general consensus of satisfied silence with shaking
of heads. Then Adam McNeil slowly raised his hand.

"Yes Adam?" Will acknowledged the young man with a fatherly
expression.

"Well, I just mainly wanted to say that I felt both honored and
privileged to have been selected to work with all of you on this
Project."

Will Benson smiled. "Thank you Adam. I believe that I can speak
for the rest of the group in saying that we've felt the same
having you here with us. Are there any other comments, or
compliments before we move on to the evaluation?"

Once again Adam McNeil raised his hand to speak.

Will Benson nodded, "Yes?"

Adam McNeil inhaled deeply, exhaled, and looked around the room
at his esteemed colleagues. "I still think it would be of
scientific and historical value if we could someday carefully
explore the possibilities of examining the future."

Will Benson smiled, shaking his head. "Adam, you as a historian
know the risks." Then looking around the room Will Benson asked
one last time. "Are there any other points of personal business?"

Looking around and seeing no further show of hands, Will
proceeded with his final evaluation. "As you all know, our
purpose here on Gateway was to try to recover lost historical and
scientific data. We are the third such specially chosen team to
be assigned to this Project, and I know that the complete
refurbishment of the Memory Alpha's main computer banks cannot be
done with only a few sessions of recording history from the
Guardian of Forever. Nor, sadly, are we likely to ever restore
the computer's vast storehouse of knowledge to what it was prior
to it's destruction. However," He paused, smiled, looked at each
member individually then continued, "my final official report on
this Project Team's efforts will be a favorable one, and as for
my own personal report, I feel that we worked well together. I am
honored to have been associated with, and to have gotten to know
each of you. Thank you, and best of luck with the remainder of
your careers."

Will then turned to Richard Mathias and extended his right hand.
"Well, my old friend, and I don't mean--"

"I know what you meant Will," Richard Mathias interrupted as he
accepted Benson's hand, "and I'm grateful for having this last
chance." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Will Benson smiled holding Mathias' hand. "Best of luck my
friend. Retirement isn't a punishment. You've served the
department of Galactic Historical Records well for years, and now
you can do just what you want but never had the time for."

Mathias smiled and mumbled, "Yes, now is the time for the
culmination of my long laid plans."

Following all of the good-byes and hugs, Mathias and the other
Memory Alpha team members prepared their personal belongings and
the recorded historical data for the trip back to Starbase 11.

Lost in his private thoughts, Mathias, bent over his cot
rechecking his duffle bag making certain he hadn't forgotten to
pack anything. The Scholar's robe and the medallion were both
carefully packed at the very bottom of the bag. He looked up with
a start when he heard the heavy breathing of someone approaching.


Doctor Joletta Pierce, who had her duffle bag slung over her
shoulder, also carried a rather good-sized box filled with
medical supplies and miscellaneous equipment. Smiling, she ambled
over to Mathias, and dropping the box onto the cot, sat down on
the, now striped bare, adjacent cot.

"You about ready to leave this God forsaken place?" She asked
chuckling slightly.

Mathias sighed and looked thoughtfully at Joletta. "This was my
last hoorah, and the end of my--" Mathias paused, and thought,
the end of my usefulness, my career, and my life.

Joletta patted him gently on the shoulder, and said cheerfully,
"Richard, this is the end of one portion of your life, and the
beginning of the rest of your life!" Joletta paused, then asked
cautiously, "Do you have any tentative, or firm plans, as to what
you might want to do with all your newly acquired free time?"

Mathias smiled privately to himself, and, turning to face
Joletta, answered, "Yes, I'm considering some `timely' options at
the moment."

Joletta's inquiry as what these "timely options" were was
interrupted when Will Benson poked his head in and announced that
their transport ship had arrived, and was ready for boarding.



*****

Once on board, the ride to Starbase 11 took about three hours,
during which Mathias sat clutching his shoulder satchel
contemplating exactly how he would manage to obtain passage to
Samara.

The answer was obvious! he thought. The effect of the medallion
is temporary, and its use on Adam McNeil appeared not to have any
harmful side affects.

Upon their arrival on Starbase 11, Mathias began a surreptitious
search to find a means of transportation. There were several
starships available each heading in the desired general
direction. His final choice was narrowed down to one, a third
class star vessel, which was scheduled to leave the star base
within the hour. Mathias therefore made arrangements to meet with
the captain.

Wearing the medallion, Mathias entered an observation port and
ambled over to the huge transparent aluminum window. Standing
admiring the panoramic view was a middle-aged, slender, very
neatly groomed man wearing a uniform with insignia indicating his
rank.

Mathias exposed his medallion to full view, moved closer, and
politely inquired, "Excuse me, sir, are you, Captain Faraday?"

The officer turned and blinked, then answered, "Yess, I am
Captain Faraday. How may I be of service?"

Mathias, recognizing the appearance of the same hypnotic blank
stare, first, nonchalantly glanced around to see if anyone was
observing the interaction, then responded, "I was previously
assigned to the Memory Alpha team, and am very much interested in
visiting Samara to do further historical research. I was
wondering whether you might mind dropping me off on Samara? That
is, if it wouldn't be taking you out of your way."

Captain Faraday blinked again. His eyebrows furrowed into a
confused expression, he then, in a sedated manner, responded,
"Ahhh sure I don't see any problem with bringing you along. We
can drop you off on our way to ," Captain Faraday silently shook
his head in an effort to try to remember his assigned
destination.

Mathias then smiled understandingly, grasped Captain's Faraday's
right hand in a grateful handshake. "Thank you very much Captain
Faraday. My research on Samara is of the utmost importance to
me."

"Pindar!" Captain Faraday exclaimed. "We're going there to
deliver--"

Mathias interrupted, nodding, "Yes, well, I can't tell you how
grateful I am that you're going my way."

Staring at Mathias with a dumbfounded expression, Captain Faraday
then smiled and nodded quietly.



*****

Once on board, Mathias set about reviewing his plan. The first
important detail requiring my attention, he thought, is the
development of an identity. Mathias paused, and retraced the
memory of his last visit, then continued with his evaluation.
During my last, unscheduled trip to Samara I was mistaken for a
Scholar. Why not make use of the robe again as my disguise!
Mathias' brow furrowed. I will also need a pseudonym which will
not attract suspicion of Starfleet or the indigenous population.

Then considering what might be an appropriate pseudonym, Mathias
finally settled upon the name Gershon Ravid meaning "Stranger
with ornament."



*****

Mathias transported down to the capitol city of Kadar in the
early morning, Samara time, to avoid being witnessed by any of
the planet's inhabitants. Mathias carried with him a dark colored
hooded robe which he carefully unfolded and slipped on over his
head. He then draped the mysterious relic of tomorrow around his
neck, and proceeded toward the palace.

The cool, early morning air was still and crisp as he made his
way stealthily through the dormant streets of Kadar. As he walked
quietly toward the palace, Mathias thought about his first trip
into Kadar and how the city appeared to have remained changeless,
through the many years. Upon reaching the palace's huge main
door, he knocked several times and waited.

The city was just beginning to awaken around him. As Mathias
stood waiting, he pulled his hood up to obscure his face, and
glanced nervously around.

The imposing heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing a towering
muscular, angry looking guard. chuckled as mused then

Mathias, grimaced slightly as he looked up at the guard and
thought, That towering mass of muscle prevents just anybody from
gaining entrance to the palace!

Donning an expression of complete innocence, he introduced
himself, and explained that he wanted to be granted an audience
with the Archon. To assure his success, he casually caressed his
medallion with his right hand as he spoke. Mathias observed with
scientific fascination as the medallion's electromagnetic field
had an increasing effect on the guard. The guard's eyebrows
furrowed, then he just stood dumbly staring.

Mathias then hypnotically repeated his request to be allowed in
to speak to the Archon.

The guard responded slowly, as if sedated or asleep, "I will
announce your, you. Please , come, no, please wait here." The
guard then gently nudged the great medal door closed.

Mathias stood anxiously waiting for the guard to return. Moments
later, the gigantic metal door creaked open, and the large
hypnotized guard beckoned for him to enter the palace. The two of
them walked down a maze of dimly lit hallways finally stopping in
front of the door leading to the Main Audience Chamber. Sitting
regally in an ornately carved, dark wood throne like chair was an
elegantly dressed man with whitish-gray hair. Archon Sagi
Rachamim was the current governmental leader of Samara.

Mathias approached the throne, bowed respectfully and introduced
himself. "Most wise and able Archon, I am the humble Novice
Scholar teacher Gershon Ravid, your servant, master in Samaran
history and political science. I have come to Kadar from the
ChenAra Mountains with the hope that I might be granted your
permission to offer my humble but knowledgeable services in the
instruction of your son preparing him to someday be as wise and
able a leader as yourself." Having finished speaking, he then
bowed again.

The Archon sat quietly, with a contemplative expression as he
considered the offer. Moments later, his expression changed from
contemplative to one of seriousness. He then spoke in a solemn,
official manner. "The Scholars of the ChenAra Mountains are not
normally so boldly extroverted. However, the Scholars are known
to be knowledgeable and trustworthy. Novice Scholar Gershon
Ravid, I find your offer to instruct my son acceptable."

With each successive meeting, the electromagnetic field produced
by his medallion, helped dissuade any interference. Upon the
completion of the third day of the young Archon's instructions
Gershon was summoned to the elder Archon's private chambers. The
ornately carved, heavy wood door leading to the Archon's bed
chamber was ajar. Gershon knocked lightly, and waited. From
inside Gershon Ravid could just barely hear a tired, drugged
sounding voice acknowledging the knock.

"Come in."

Gershon entered slowly, and nodded respectfully. The aging Archon
lay back against a pillow covered settee. The life seemed to have
all but left the Archon's spirit.

"Good morning, Archon. You are not feeling well again today?"
Since he hadn't meant really to hurt anyone, Gershon was
genuinely concerned.

"We could postpone the meeting on your son's educational progress
until you are feeling stronger."

"Perhaps you are wise, Scholar." The Archon then closed his eyes
and fell asleep.

The following day the Archon's health had become too frail to
maintain his command. The young Archon assumed command as Archon
pro tem, and adopted Gershon Ravid as Palace Adviser.



-13-



"Discontent is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation." 
from A Woman of No Importance, by Oscar Wilde 



The sociologist's encampment buzzed with an unsettling static
electrical tension. Aaron, the team's leader, sat with a
concerned expression at a wooden table. Outside he could hear
sounds of shouting. A sudden disturbing onset of violence had
been steadily growing during the past several days. The source or
sources of the unrest were not yet known for certain. Aaron sat
back in his chair, eyebrows furrowed, his hand resting
thoughtfully against his chin as he considered the problem. The
initial arrival of our sociology team brought about a mild
disturbance within the normal pattern of daily existence but the
people of Kadar soon became accustomed to our presence and life
resumed its natural course.

Aaron glanced up toward the door. One of his equally concerned
colleagues entered and approached slightly flushed and
breathless.

"The palace has been placed off limits! Not just to us, no one is
being allowed inside to see the Archon!"

Aaron frowned at this news, and asked, "Dagan, were you able to
discover why no one is being allowed into the palace?"

Dagan spread his hands out, and shook his head. "No, no one would
even agree to talk to me. The shop keepers I've spoken to say
that a ChenAra Mountain Scholar has recently been appointed as
Palace Adviser, and there are rumors going around that the Archon
has become quite ill."

Aaron sighed, raising his furrowed eyebrows, "For our next report
to Starfleet, we need to find out whether or not this rumor of
the Archon's illness is true. You return to the palace. See if
you can get anyone to confirm your suspicions. I think I'll go
ask the Scholars if they have sent someone to lend guidance as
palace adviser."

Turning to go Dagan looked back and exclaimed, "Aaron, the
ChenAra Mountain Scholars wouldn't have sent one of their order
to become involved with this city's government! You know that."

Aaron nodded. "Yes, I suspect that a potentially dangerous
outsider posing as a Scholar has managed to gain entrance into
the palace under an assumed guise, and then somehow beguiled the
Archon into appointing him as Palace Adviser."

Before the other sociologist could respond, Aaron held a hand up
for silence then, placing on both hands on the table, leaned
forward and continued, "And since we both know that the Archon
Arvid Sagi would not have been so easily fooled, we need to face
the unfortunate probability that Arvid Sagi has become
incapacitated, leaving his son and this impostor Palace Adviser
in charge of the government!"

Aaron stood erect, and nodded to his colleague. "Go now and see
what you can find out. I hope to God my suspicions are wrong."
Dagan nodded in agreement and left.

Aaron then put on his homespun jacket, and leaving the hut
proceeded toward the ChenAra Mountain Scholar's village.



*****

As Aaron headed away from Kadar he could see in the distance a
cluster of brownish-gray huts nestled up next to the mountains.
The dry dusty dirt road leading to the Scholars village showed
evidence of being sparsely used. Further away from the city,
Aaron saw signs of a neat column of sandal prints which he
assumed belonged to the Scholars and that time and the wind had
mostly erased.

Aaron approached the Scholar's village with an uneasy feeling of
awe. He could not remember experiencing such a feeling since he
had been a child, and was taken to see a naturally formed
underground cathedral on Sirus II. Aaron shook his head and
thought, That was an incredible sight!

He then refocused his attention to locating the Scholar's main
hut. Aaron, never having been to the Scholars village before,
looked around. There was no sign of anyone, and yet he could
sense that they were there. Even though it was a pleasantly warm
spring day he felt inexplicably chilled. Aaron shivered slightly,
shrugged his shoulders, and embraced his upper body. Walking
among the Scholar's secluded domain had the same mystical aura
which he had experienced in descending into the underground
cathedral. There was a sudden sensation of a presence behind him.
Alerted, he spun around. The Scholar, who had been silently
observing Aaron, approached, nodded then calmly asked, "How may I
help you Stranger?"

Aaron just stood in quiet awe for a few moments then responded,
"There is unrest within Kadar." Aaron then pointed toward the
city.

The Scholar nodded, and with a sadness in his tone confirmed
Aaron's observation. "Yes, we have been aware of the unrest."

Aaron looked at the Scholar with a mixed expression of confusion
and concern then asked, "Have you sent a Scholar to assist the
Archon within the palace as adviser?"

The hint of a frown began forming on the Scholar's lips as he
responded, "Our Brethren share their knowledge and guidance with
all who are in need Stranger." Pausing to consider Aaron's
question further, the Scholar continued ominously, "However, the
Archon Sagi has not for many seasons requested or required our
guidance."

Aaron let out a sigh of frustration, and considered the benefit
of repeating his question. With the good probability of his
getting the same sort of vague response, Aaron politely thanked
the Scholar and headed back toward Kadar. Marching along the dirt
road feeling defeated, he hoped that Dagan had been more
fortunate in finding some answers.



*****

Dagan walked along at a purposeful pace. Under normal
circumstances he would have taken the time to stop briefly to
visit with the shop owners. He also would have salivated at the
enticingly sweet aromas wafting from the bakeries which he passed
along the way. But this afternoon he just headed straight toward
the palace without stopping.

As he rounded the corner he could see the red and black marble
palace looming majestically several city blocks away. He slowed
down his pace as he approached the cold gray stone steps leading
up to the palace's main entrance. He had mounted these same
stairs earlier that morning, to no avail. Dagan sighed and looked
down, and then he climbed upward toward the large wood main
palace door. He continued upward placing his foot down onto the
next step in a slow futile pace. Finally reaching the front
stoop, he stood before the palace's 8 foot tall main portal.
Assuming an expression of firm conviction, he firmly grabbed hold
of the heavy door knocker and pounded several times against the
imposing wooden barrier. He then stood back and waited a few
moments. Of course nothing happened, just like that morning. So
he decided to continue pounding against the door until someone
acknowledged his presence!

After the third round of pounding someone, finally peeked through
a small shutter in the door and, in a muffled irritated-sounding
voice demanding, "Who is it! What do you want! Go away!"

Then without waiting for a response to any of the questions the
individual slammed the small peep hole shut. Frustrated but still
determined, Dagan released a sigh and proceeded once again to
beat against the door. The little peep hole opened again but
before the voice could reiterate it's string of rhetorical
questions, Dagan yelled, "Wait! I need to see, or rather I'm
requesting an audience with the Archon Arvid Sagi! I'm from--"
But before Dagan could complete what he was saying the small
opening beg

an to slam shut. He reached up and quickly jammed his fingers
through the peep hole to prevent the tiny portal from closing.
The person inside continued to try to push the little door shut.
Dagan winced in pain, then completed what he had started to say.

"I am here representing a small group of sociologists. We were
invited to Kadar to work as special guests of Archon Arvid Sagi.
I therefore demand to speak with the Archon immediately! If I am
not allowed in to see the Archon I will have no other choice but
to report to my superiors that there is something seriously
wrong, and they will then send someone here to officially
investigate!" Upon gasping out the last of his statement, he
pulled his injured throbbing hand away from the small opening.

The tiny door remained opened slightly for a few moments. The
voice inside snapped, "Wait here!" Then the peep hole closed.
Dagan nursed his sore hand and waited.



*****

Inside the palace a short, stout, curly haired guard shuffled
sleepily down the corridor toward the private office of the
palace adviser. The guard paused, blinking disorientated for a
moment in front of the closed door, then reached up and limply
knocked on the door. Then a curt muffled response came from
within the office. "Come."

The guard stood there almost in a trance-like state, then slowly
opened the door and shuffled into the office. He bowed
respectfully to a man dressed in a Scholar's robes, who was
sitting in an ornately carved wooden chair. The Scholar frowned,
turning a 3/4 profile, inclined his head slightly then inquired
with a tone of forced calmness, "Yes? What is the matter?"

The guard stared silently at the Scholar for a few moments,
sighed and then lethargically responded, "Ooooh, Most wise
Scholar Adviser ," The pudgy little sedated guard paused briefly
to display a grandiose hand gesture and another bow, then slowly
continued. "Outside," pointing toward the main entrance, "is a
man who claims, that he or they, had been specially invited by
the Archon to work within this city, and he's demanding to see
the Archon."

Gershon Ravid sat silently considering what the guard had just
said. Then turned in his chair to face the sleepy guard and, with
a hint of tenseness in his voice, asked, "Did this man say what
sort of work the Archon had invited him and his companions to
Kadar to do?"

The guard nodded sleepily then answered, "Yes, he said he was
here representing a group of sociologists." The little man shook
his head then mumbled under his breath, "whatever those are."

Gershon Ravid knew that he was about to face his second of two,
and he hoped final hurdles, threatening to prevent him from
continuing with his plans. He was now obviously nervous, glared
hard at the guard and ordered, "Go issue my request that the team
of sociologists come to the palace early this evening, and I will
grant them an immediate audience."

The guard blinked, bowed, then turned and left the office. He
shuffled down the corridors back toward the front entrance.

Outside the palace, Dagan paced back and forth in front of the
large wooden door, caressing his sore hand. He stopped, and spun
around when he heard the little peep hole door creak open.

The muffled voice inside repeated the Palace Adviser's summons
then closed the little door.

Dagan stood there thinking, Well, at least we've now got a way
in. He then turned and headed back toward his encampment.



-14-



"Who made thee a ruler and a judge over us?" 
Acts, VII, 27 



Gershon Ravid had an anxious expression on his face as he watched
the dull-witted little guard leave his office. Sitting back, he
rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, clasped hands
together and placed them thoughtfully against his mouth.

His attention shifted to the young Archon. How trusting he's
been! Gershon recognized that ninety percent of the trust given
to him was owing to his successful disguise as a ChenAra Mountain
Scholar. The young Archon seemed to sense there was no immediate
need for alarm whereas the elder Archon, having lived many years,
held an ever present undercurrent of suspicion. This, of course,
made the elder Archon an obstacle to Gershon's plans for socio
political change on Samara.

Gershon then felt a twinge of guilt and regret over having been
the undeniable cause of he elder Archon's illness. He hadn't
known that his revolutionary suggestions for subtly reshaping the
Samara's social development and the influence of the medallion
would affect the Archon's health. Gershon hadn't meant to harm
anyone. My plan was to try to help the Samaran people! Gershon
lowered his gaze, and sighed. The elder Archon was thankfully,
still alive. In time he would recover. For now, the Archon's

illness eliminated both his opposition and any need for further
use of the medallion to influence him. Gershon Ravid needed this
time to implement his plan of social reform.

With the Federation team of sociologists, now also suspicious,
Gershon faced the problem of how to prevent them from threatening
the fruition of his plans. His eyebrows furrowed into an uneasy
expression. A single report to Starfleet would mean a sudden halt
to everything I had hoped to accomplish here.

Gershon shook his head sighing, and thought about how incredibly
slow the bureaucratic wheels would have turned if he had
presented his plan to the Planetary Development board. It might
not have been scheduled for consideration for years!

Gershon slowly stood up and turned toward the door leading out
into the corridor. Turning right, he headed purposefully for the
main audience chamber. There Gershon expected to find his
youthful and trusting protégé, Ben-Ami, the Archon pro-tem.



*****

A young man dressed conspicuously in regal garment sat on the
center throne smiling to himself. The young Archon's expression
changed from self pleasure to a mixture of awe, fear, and a
child-like respect. He stood and moved aside, away from the
throne, as his newly appointed palace adviser strode into the
room. The wizened Scholar adviser approached and sat down in the
vacated throne. Both were quiet for a few moments. The younger
man of course stood waiting for his elder adviser to speak first.

The Scholar bowed his hooded head then proceeded to express his
concern. "Archon Ben-Ami, as I am certain you have been aware,
there is a disturbing unrest growing among the people of this
city. Your people."

Gershon glanced over toward the young Archon for a silent nod in
confirmation, then continued speaking, "There are a group of
strangers working here in Kadar by your father's invitation."

Archon Ben-Ami nodded, and responded, "Yes, Scholar, I know of
these people. They told us they just wanted to work here as one
of us and to help guide--"

The fatherly Scholar adviser quickly raised his hand for silence
and sighed heavily. Then, slowly leaning toward the young man in
a position of confidence, he once again began to speak, "Young
Archon, I believe that these strangers are at the very root of
the unrest."

Ben-Ami, with eyebrows furrowed, looked down at his hands, and
bit thoughtfully on his lower lip. Looking up again, in a voice
of shaky confidence he announced, "I think I should banish these
outsiders from the city!"

Taken slightly by surprise by his young protégé's pronouncement
Gershon, in a tone of respectful indulgence, offered an alternate
solution to the problem. "Although you have assumed your father's
place during his illness, I think it would be best to temporarily
revoke their working rights within the city. Since your father
was responsible for their presence, he should be the one to
banish them. For now, to prevent any further disturbance, we
should keep the strangers confined within the palace."

Young Archon Ben-Ami thought about this advice then, nodding his
consent gave his official decree. "Yes! That would be best. These
outsiders shall be held here to await my father's recovery, and
the final resolution of their disposition."

Gershon Ravid nodded approvingly, and called for an attendant.
"Go, see that the entire group of sociologists is present at our
scheduled meeting."

The attendant bowed then quickly left the room.



*****

Dagan took the long way back; he needed to think. After arriving
within the sociologist's compound, he sat with a confused,
worried expression, waiting at Aaron's desk. Placing his clasped
hands worriedly against his lips Dagan thought, The slow-witted
guard had issued what sounded vaguely like an ultimatum. My given
instructions were for our entire sociology team to be present at
the meeting with the Archon. Otherwise there would be no meeting.
Very odd!

Some time later, Dagan looked up as Aaron entered their
make-shift main hut. "It doesn't look as if you've had much
better luck than I had."

Aaron sat down on an adjacent seat, shaking his head. "The
Scholars are about as helpful as a riddle."

Dagan chuckled. "What does that mean?"

Aaron sighed and smiled. "Well they didn't exactly say that they
hadn't sent someone to help the Archon as palace adviser, yet the
Scholar I spoke to seemed concerned and, as much in the dark as I
was. How did you do? Or should I even ask?"

Dagan raised his eyebrows, shook his head again, and proceeded to
reiterate the guard's suspicious invitation. "At first, like last
time, no one answered my knocking. Then a little peep-hole door
opened. Anyway, to make a long story short, after I had told the
guard what I wanted, he closed his hatch, disappeared for about
15-20 minutes, then returned with a very strange invitation."

Aaron leaned back in his chair, trying to control his growing
impatience, asked, "What did the guard say?"

Dagan, recognizing that his attempt at making a long story short
had failed, then smiled apologetically and responded, "He said
our request for an audience had been granted, and that we were
all to come to the palace."

Aaron's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down into a
worried frown. Leaning forward in his chair he asked, "All of us?
The Archon said he wanted all of us to report to the palace?"

Dagan spread his hands out, eyebrows raised, and nodded.

Aaron sat back again in his chair. "That is odd!" Aaron looked
down at his chronometer. "Was this invitation issued for a
specified time?"

"Yes. Sunset." Dagan answered.

Aaron frowned. "That's less than half an hour from now! It will
take us about 15 minutes to walk to the palace at a good clip."
Aaron sighed then ordered, "Help me round up the rest of group.
I'd like to see what's going on within the palace before making
my report to Starfleet."

Both men then stood and left the hut.

The entire team of sociologists were expediently rounded up and
were on route to the palace within 20 minutes. Aaron recognized
the time factor would make them about 5 minutes later than
scheduled. However, considering the Samaran penchant for being
relaxed, Aaron figured, or rather hoped, that the Archon would
not then, on this one occasion, be insistent upon punctuality.



*****

The six person sociology team walked along at a quick steady
pace. Unaccustomed to seeing such a large group together with
such apparent purpose the towns people stopped whatever they were
doing to watch in curiosity as the procession passed by.

Cara, physically the most striking looking of the two women in
the group, made her way over to Aaron, who was leading the group.
Placing a hand on his arm to catch his attention, breathing
heavily, she asked, "Aaron, what is this all about? Why has the
Archon summoned all of us to come to the palace?"

Also, breathing hard, Aaron looked over into Cara's worried,
clear blue eyes, and shook his head. "You know as much as I do
about what's going on." He continued to march on a little way
then added, "I have an uncomfortable feeling we may be walking
right into a trap of some sort." He laughed nervously, and
lifting an authoritarian finger, concluded, "But until we have
more information to go on we are all under orders not to take any
action, from as yet unsubstantiated assumptions, which might
violate the

Prime Directive."

Cara sighed, shook her head, and slowed her walking pace once
again.

Arriving 5 minutes past sunset, as he estimated, Aaron approached
the imposing wood main palace door and knocked. Moments later, a
small door, at eye level, opened, and the same sleepy sounding
guard listlessly asked, "Who is it? What do you want?"

Aaron announced, "We are the group of strangers invited by the
Archon Arvid Sagi, and we have been summoned here by the Archon
to the palace."

The guard yawned, replied, "One moment, wait here." Then closed
the little peep hole door.



*****

Inside the palace, Gershon paced nervously. The young Archon
pro-tem had been diplomatically assigned to take care of another
task elsewhere in the palace. Then Gershon stopped pacing as the
guard entered the room. The guard, swayed slightly, and blinked
then announced, "The strangers have arrived at the palace. Shall
I bring them in to see you now?"

Gershon nodded silently.

The guard bowed, turned and left.

The huge main door opened with a startling rumble. The team of
sociologists were then ushered inside and down the corridor
leading to the main audience chamber. As they entered the
audience chamber a monkish looking figure walked solemnly over.
"I am Gershon Ravid, Palace Adviser."

With a confused and concerned expression Aaron bowed. "I am
Aaron, the leader of my group." Looking around suspiciously, he
asked, "Where is--" Aaron paused, feeling dizzy, then continued.
"Where is the Archon Arvid Sagi?"

By now all of the other members of the sociology team were
showing signs of disorientation, and dizziness.

Gershon smiled slightly, and reached out to pull down on a signal
cord summoning the main palace guards. "The Archon Arvid Sagi is
safe, as you all shall soon be." Moments later a unit of four
guards entered the audience chamber, and bowed stiffly. Gershon
Ravid, indicating the now stunned group of sociologists,
graciously ordered, "Please show our guests to their prepared,
secluded quarters."

The guards approached and, steered the little band of
sociologists toward the far end of the palace.



-15-



"Life has more questions than answers." 
Anonymous 



The light, airy sound of a "Neo Baroque" sextuple fugue, written
by Gregor Phillipe Buxtehude, descendant of Deitrich Buxtehude,
drifted onto the bridge of the Enterprise. At all but one of the
Bridge stations, barely perceivable sounds of tapping kept time
with the rhythm of the complex harmony. The one exception was the
Science station where the Enterprise's Vulcan Science Officer,
Mister Spock sat characteristically engrossed in his assigned
task as he privately appreciated the mathematically attuned
composing style of Gregor Buxtehude's music.

Sitting in the command chair located at the center of the Bridge,
Captain James T. Kirk tapped his foot lightly to the beat of the
music as he entered his log.



Captain's Log, Stardate 2021.4
We are in standard orbit around the planet Samara located in a
recently explored `young' star system. Our primary mission here
is to investigate the reasons for the `somewhat sudden cessation'
of reports from the Federation assigned team of sociologists and
to offer our assistance if needed. An additional matter of
concern: upon our arrival, our ship's sensors detected a
previously unknown, and thus far unexplainable flux of
electromagnetic energy from the planet's surface. In accordance
with our scientific research responsibilities, I will conduct a
thorough investigation of the electromagnetic anomaly. My final
report to Starfleet regarding the status of the missing team of
sociologists will include a complete analysis on our findings of
said anomaly.


Captain Kirk completed the entry into his log, then turned his
head to toward the regally serene dark skinned Bantu
Communications Officer, Lieutenant Penda Nyota Uhura sitting at
the communications station. Sensing that the Captain was looking
in her direction, Uhura raised her dark eyes in acknowledgment.

"Uhura, see if you can contact the sociology team." Kirk ordered.

"Aye, sir." Uhura acknowledged.

Doctor Leonard McCoy, the Chief Medical Officer, stood just to
the right of the command chair at the railing behind the Science
station tapping his fingers slightly off beat. Spock stoically
ignored Doctor McCoy's irregular syncopation as he continued to
analyze the odd electromagnetic readings.

Kirk pivoted in his command chair to face Doctor McCoy and shot a
mildly annoyed glance at his Chief Medical Officer silently
gesturing with a finger across the throat for his friend to cease
his tapping.

"Bones, you've been restless and fidgety lately. Is there
anything in particular on your mind?"

Doctor McCoy returned an expression of general disgruntlement,
and in his usual tone of sarcastic indignation said, "So, now
you've started practicing psychiatry? And without a license, I
might add! Need I remind you, Captain, that as Chief Medical
Officer of this ship I have every right to come onto the Bridge
to check up on the physical and mental well-being of"

Kirk, seeing that he had inadvertently struck a nerve, gently
attempted to circumvent his friend's tirade by raising his hand
to indicate a time-out. Smiling calmly, Kirk attempted to assuage
his friend's ruffled feelings.

"Sorry, Bones. I didn't mean to"

"Oh, that's Okay. Jim." McCoy leaned back on his elbow against
the railing. "I guess maybe I have been a little bored lately."
Doctor McCoy paused for a moment and with sigh began speaking
again, "There's not been much use for my services"

Doctor McCoy was abruptly interrupted as the music reached a
crescendo, the suddenness of which surprised both men. They
simultaneously glanced up toward the intercom with startled
expressions. The music had been recommended by Doctor McCoy as a
morale booster, to counteract several months of routine and
generally boring assignments.

McCoy relaxed a little, and pointing toward the intercom
continued, "This music was just what the Doctor ordered."

Kirk nodded and smiled tiredly in agreement. Kirk, wanting to
encourage his friend, said as cheerfully as possible, "Well
Bones, maybe there'll be something exciting for you to do down on
Samara."

To his dismay, Kirk saw McCoy's expression alter for the worse.

"Jim, first of all, medical emergencies are not exciting.
Secondly, in case you've forgotten, we're under orders not to do
anything that might reveal our advanced technology."

Kirk nodded, and with a sigh, abandoned his attempt to cheer up
his friend. "Yeah, I know, Bones, the Prime Directive."

Captain Kirk turned back toward the communications station where
Uhura adroitly attended her board with agile slender fingers.

"Uhura, have you been able to contact anyone from the sociology
team yet?"

Uhura looked at the Captain, and shaking her head responded, "No,
sir. I've tried. Something down there is causing interference,
and my signal isn't getting through."

Kirk, subdued by the lack of progress, ordered, "Please keep
trying."

"Yes, sir." Uhura responded as she returned to her communications
board.

Kirk turned next to his Science Officer.

"Mister Spock, what data does Starfleet's department of Planetary
Geological Information currently have regarding the planet
Samara's natural electromagnetic field and, could this be what's
causing the communication interference between the ship and the
planet?"

Spock sat with elbows bent, his hands folded in a recognizably
contemplative fashion with the index fingers resting slightly
against his lips as he considered the Captain's question. After a
brief moment, Spock proceeded to respond with his usual degree of
precision.

"The Starfleet geological studies on Samara describe the planet's
magnetosphere to be 5.2 x 10 -5 Gauss near the poles, or .000087
that of Earth's magnetosphere. Since the ship's sensors have
detected no discernible change in Samara's magnetic axis or
strength it is quite logical to conclude that the unusual
emanation of electromagnetic energy is not the result of a
natural phenomena."

Spock paused before continuing, "As to your second question, I
believe that an electromagnetic anomaly not reported by earlier
expeditions is quite probably the cause of the communication
interference. The wave form of the anomaly exhibits an unusual
elliptical polarization of a form that would tend to mask normal
communications channels in the vicinity. The source of
Electromagnetic radiation appears to be isolated to a radius of
1,000 meters with its nucleus in or around the capital city of
Kadar, its effective radiation level dropping within normal
planetary magnetic strength outside that radius. Since Starfleet
records place the sociologist's encampment within 900 meters of
the anomaly's projected source, communications would most
certainly be affected."

Spock completed his report and sat silently at attention awaiting
any further questions. However before Kirk could say anything,
Doctor McCoy, who had been impatiently glaring at Spock
throughout the entire response, implored, "Why can't you give
simple uncomplicated answers for a change?! I suppose short and
simple answers go against some sort of Vulcan religious belief."

With a lift of one elegantly upswept eyebrow, Spock replied in
his matter-of-fact manner, "Doctor McCoy, religion is not at
issue. The length of my responses is dictated by informational
complexity."

"Excuse me Captain," Uhura interjected "I have received an urgent
message from Starfleet. It's a coded top priority communique."

"Thank you, Uhura. Patch it down to my quarters please."

"Aye, sir" Uhura replied.

Kirk ordered Spock to take the conn, left the Bridge and headed
for his quarters, silently thanking Starfleet for its timely
interruption of the all too familiar battle of wits between his
two friends.

As Kirk entered his cabin, he sat down at his personal computer
console and keyed in the command for the coded message to appear
on the viewscreen.

To: Captain James T. Kirk, commander, U.S.S. Enterprise, NCC-1701 

From: Commodore José I. Mendez, commanding officer, Starbase 11 

Stardate: 2322.05 

The Department of Galactic History requests that while in the
vicinity of Samara, you be on the alert for a missing historian.
Doctor Richard B. Mathias was one of six specially chosen
historians assigned to the top secret `Project Memory Alpha' on
the planet Gateway. Starfleet has reason to suspect that Doctor
Mathias might have managed somehow to obtain passage to Samara
illegally, for purposes unknown.

Starfleet records show that the Enterprise was the first
Federation starship to encounter the Time planet with the
Guardian of Forever. I will therefore assume that you recognize
the seriousness of the situation. Should there be any breach of
information from Gateway the consequences could be irreparable.



Kirk sat back in his chair frowning at the message, crossed his
arms, and resting his chin on his fist thought, We've been unable
to contact anyone on the planet's surface, and I'm bound hand and
foot by the Prime Directive. All I'm going to accomplish by
remaining up here is to accrue more questions. What I need now
are some answers!

Then Kirk sat forward, and slammed his palm against the intercom
button. "Kirk to Bridge."

"Spock here."

"Have Doctor McCoy and a security team meet me in the transporter
room. I want you to remain on board to continue trying to analyze
that electromagnetic field emanating from Kadar." Kirk, not
waiting for Spock's acknowledgment, turned off his desk intercom,
left his quarters and proceeded toward the transporter room.

Kirk met Doctor McCoy outside in the corridor and upon entering
the transporter room, they joined the landing party team on the
transporter pads, to beam down to Samara.



*****

Kirk had ordered the transporter chief to set the coordinates for
a secluded valley. The crisp Fall early morning air was still and
clear. Large white clouds floated lethargically in the pale
aquamarine sky. Only the sounds of birds and insects could be
heard. The majestic dusty mauve-brown peaks of the ChenAra
Mountains stood like an impassable barrier curving around to
their left 6 km away from their beam down point, and extended on
into the distance as far as the eye could see. Kadar, the capital

city, could be seen to the northwest in the distance as a
grey-reddish-brown expanse of buildings. The landing party,
disguised in their indigenous garb, proceeded towards their
destination as soon they had made certain that their arrival had
not been observed and completed their required scan of the
surrounding area.

After they had walked about 1.3 km Kirk called a temporary halt
to contact the ship. He ordered the security guards to keep a
look out then moved away from the rest of the group, out of ear
shot, and flipped open his communicator.

"Kirk to Enterprise."

"Enterprise, Spock here."

"Spock, have you managed to identify the cause of the
electromagnetic anomaly yet?"

"No, sir, I've not yet been able to ascertain why it exists.
However, I have detected that the anomaly appears to be
non-stationary, and its range of influence appears to vary in
accordance with its movement."

"What? Explain."

"The Electromagnetic anomaly, as best I can tell, is capable of
moving, or being moved, possibly carried about by a person."

Kirk stood, with a grim expression, considering the implications
of Spock's revelation, then asked, "We're just on the outskirts
of Kadar. About how much farther does the landing party have to
go until we are within the anomaly's sphere of influence?"

Spock's reply was foreboding. "According to my calculations, you
are in the periphery now. You traversed the field's perimeter
1.137 km from your beam down point."

Feeling as though something was grating against his nerves, Kirk
shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, then in a
slightly impatient or edgy tone asked, "Have you been able to
contact either the Archon Arvid Sagi Rachamim or the sociology
team yet?"

Once again the Spock's response was discouraging.

Kirk sighed and mumbled a worn-out sounding `thank you,' ordering
Spock to continue trying, and to contact him if there was
anything helpful to report.

Against his better judgement, Kirk ordered the landing party to
continue towards Kadar.



-16-



"Hyotan kara koma ga deru." 
(Literally: a pony comes out of a gourd.) 
(Translated: The unexpected often happens.) 
a Japanese Proverb 



As the landing party ambled down the dirt road toward the capitol
city's main thoroughfare, the electromagnetic field was growing
undeniably stronger. Kirk became acutely aware of personality
changes in members of the landing party which were steadily
increasing the further they went into the field's sphere of
influence.

Kirk strode along at a slow pace, and grimly reflected on what
Spock had said. The mantle of command weighed heavily on him at
that moment. Was this situation too risky to be ordering his men
into?

Kirk suddenly felt in need of moral support, and approached
McCoy. In quiet confidential tones, Kirk reported what Spock had
said as his Chief Medical Officer happily strolled along beside
him quietly listening. Kirk finished speaking and waited for what
he'd hoped would be helpful or supportive feedback.


Doctor McCoy simply placed a friendly hand on Kirk's shoulders
and, with an unexplainable little grin, drawled in a louder than
normal tone of voice, "Now Jim, y'all know how Spock's always
blowin' everythin' way out o' proportion. Things just can't be as
bad as all that. Don't y'all worry 'bout a thing." McCoy then
gave Kirk a reassuring smile, a friendly little pat on the back,
and moved over to join the rest of the landing party.

McCoy's reaction to the news of Spock's report seemed more
relaxed than could be considered normal. Kirk began to suspect
that all of the unanswered mysteries they'd encountered thus far
were somehow tied in with the electromagnetic field. If only he
had more information!

Kirk's frustrated reverie was abruptly interrupted by an
irritating beeping sound coming from his tunic pocket. Kirk
pulled the communicator out of his pocket, almost tearing the
fabric of the homespun cloth, and, sharply flicking it open,
snapped, "Kirk here."

There was obvious concern in Spock's calm voice.

"Spock here Captain."

Kirk, who had been feeling unusually edgy and impatient since
he'd beamed down to Samara, sharply demanded, "Yes Spock what do
you have to report."

Spock understood that the Captain's unusual shortness of patience
had been brought about by the seriousness of this mission
combined with the effects of the electromagnetic anomaly. In an
understanding tone, Spock proceeded to report his findings.

"First, I have pinpointed the center of the effect; it is within
the main capitol building. Second, Uhura has managed to reach
Ben-Ami Addar, the Archon's son."

Kirk abruptly interrupted Spock in a sharp, quick tone before the
completion of the report.

"What?! Where is the Archon Arvid Sagi?"

Spock continued with his report. "According to the pro tem Archon
Ben-Ami Addar, his father was taken suddenly quite ill several
days ago and is being cared for within the palace by specially
appointed physicians. The young Archon specifically requested
that we not interfere."

Kirk had developed a definite negative feeling about the son's
leadership potential from a previous brief encounter with the
Archon and his son. At best, Ben Ami was a young, overanxious,
wet behind the ears whelp!

Kirk's responded with a definite cutting edge in his voice.
"Mister Spock, neither Starfleet nor I recognize the young
pro-tem Archon's authority. I therefore fully intend to interfere
whether the young pro-tem Archon likes it or not!"

"Captain, I am constrained to remind you--" But before Spock
could continue Kirk broke in impatiently.

"If there is nothing more to report"

"With all due respect, Captain, there is one last thing I would
like to point out." Spock's tone was especially cautious.

"All right, what is it?" Kirk snapped impatiently.

"Sir, I recognize that the decision to proceed toward the capitol
building is a command prerogative"

"Yes," Kirk, feeling increasingly edgy, interrupted, "it is a
command decision Mister Spock, and whatever the consequences it
will be my responsibility."

"I understand, sir. However Captain, please keep in mind that our
presence on Samara is bound by the Non-Interference directive."

"Very well, Mister Spock, I will keep that in mind. Thank you."
Kirk sharply closed his communicator, and redeposited it into his
tunic pocket.

Kirk turned to survey his landing party, who now appeared quite
relaxed. They were laughing and joking as if on a sight-seeing
tour! Upon getting their attention, Kirk ordered the happy little
band of men to proceed toward the palace. As they walked along,
Kirk mused to himself as he remembered a similar scene in a
childhood fable of the Pied Piper leading a trail of obliviously
happy mice out of the city toward an unknown ominous fate. Only
in this case the difference was he was leading his landing party
further into the city towards an equally unknown fate. Kirk's
brow drew together now showing great concern, his smile faded as
he recognized there really was no difference. No one knew what
fate lay within the palace.

Turning the corner, Kirk saw the palace dead ahead. Oh, Lord!
What a horrible choice of words, Kirk thought. He glanced up at
the three-story, crimson-red and black mottled marble structure.
The huge wooden door almost dared him to gain entry into the
palace. Kirk marched up the stone steps to the foreboding door
and pounded against the huge wooden door with the doorknocker as
hard as he could. After waiting a few moments, getting no
response, Kirk poised, his hand gripping the door knocker
tensely,

to pound against the door once more, then a peephole opened
enough to see a man's nose, part of his mouth and eyes.

"Yes! What is it? Who are you? What do you want?" The man barked.

"I've heard that the Archon has been extremely ill and have
brought with me a Healer. May we please--"

But before Kirk finished the man on the other side of the door
snorted, "We've got the Palace Healers tending to the Archon! Go
away!," and with that he slammed the little door shut. Kirk felt
frustrated but had no intention of coming this far and giving up.
So he again began pounding on the door. The little door opened up
again just a crack, this time.

"Wait a minute! I'm James Kirk, the Archon Arvid Sagi Rahamim and
I are acquainted. If he is ill I would like to be let in to see
him." Kirk pleaded.

"Wait here." The little door closed once again and Kirk stared at
the larger closed wooden door then stood with both fists clenched
together behind his back, and waited.

After a short while had passed the main door opened. Inside a
small, rotund man, with curly golden-brown hair, and a round,
sour-looking face stood easily a good head shorter than Kirk. The
little man looked up at Kirk and sharply announced that the
physician would be allowed entrance no one else! Kirk started to
protest but thought that this might be their only chance at
getting someone into the palace and reluctantly agreed with the
little man's terms. Once McCoy had been ushered in, all Kirk
could do was wait.



***** 



After what seemed like an eternity, the huge front door opened.
McCoy stumbled out into the bright sunlight blinking and looking
somewhat dazed.

Kirk, who had been pacing back and forth, leapt up the stone
steps two at a time. Then, frantically, he grabbed McCoy by both
arms and demanded. "What the Hell happened in there Bones?!" Kirk
then noticed that his friend appeared shaken and in a concerned
tone asked, "Bones, are you all right? What happened in there?"

McCoy simply looked at Kirk, shook his head and gasped, "I don't
know, Jim," then he collapsed.

Kirk gently carried McCoy over to a secluded area behind a wall,
took out his communicator ordering an emergency beam up, and
asked that a medical team be standing by in the transporter room.

Once aboard the Enterprise, Kirk ordered the Med Techs to take
Doctor McCoy and the security guards to Sickbay. He requested
Doctor Christine Chapel, the acting Chief Medical Officer, to
perform a complete physical on everyone involved with the Samaran
landing party. Kirk agreed to stop by Sickbay later and headed
for the Bridge.

As Kirk stepped out of the turbo-lift, Spock, sitting at the
conn, stood relinquishing command back to the Captain, and
returned to the Science station. Kirk sat down heavily and turned
to Spock and asked, "Spock, have we made contact with the
sociology team yet?" Kirk had hunch what the answer would be.

Spock, looked up from his science computer, and with a regretful
expression, solemnly shook his head `No.'

Kirk leaned back in his command chair, closed his eyes, rubbed
his forehead and asked, "Anything more on that Electromagnetic
anomaly?" Kirk then opened his eyes again, and looked over at
Spock.

"I have discovered nothing further as to the cause of the
electromagnetic anomaly. However, during the course of several
hours while you were planetside, the ship's sensors registered an
odd fluctuation within the Electromagnetic field. The field's
strength appeared to increase to the order of 7.2 x 10-4 Gauss
then, within 30 minutes the field inexplicably decreased to 5.21
x 10-5 Gauss strength.

This mission is turning out to be one question after another.
Kirk thought tiredly, then asked, "Spock, do you have even a
guess as to the cause of the localized electromagnetic field or
the field's mysterious fluctuation?" Of course, Kirk knew the
answer to his question before he asked it. Vulcan's simply don't
make guesses!

"No, sir. I require considerably more information regarding the
nature of the Electromagnetic anomaly before I can present an
accurate report." Spock responded in his typically indignant tone
to being asked to evaluate the situation with insufficient
information. Kirk smiled and shook his head at his First
Officer's predictability.

Just then, Uhura at the communications station interrupted with a
message from Starfleet. "Captain, Starfleet is relaying to us a
picture and the personal stats on the historian suspected to be
on Samara."

"Oh, with everything else that's been going on I had completely
forgotten about him," Kirk said in a tone of detached interest.
"Relay that information over to the Science Station please
Lieutenant."

"Aye, sir." Uhura replied.

Kirk then stood up, walked around to the Science station, to see
what Starfleet had sent them regarding their missing historian.

As Kirk read through the information he noted that there was
nothing particularly remarkable about the man. Name: Doctor
Richard Brock Mathias; average height; no outstanding
achievements; age: late seventies, retirement age. "Hmmm."

Kirk stopped reading the stats and pushed down the intercom
button at the Science station. "Kirk to Sickbay."

Doctor Chapel responded to the intercom in Sickbay. "Sickbay,
Doctor Chapel here."

"Christine, how are Doctor McCoy and the security team doing?"

"There is nothing physically wrong with any of them. However, the
neuralscan shows that certain areas of the brain have been
affected, and although there's no permanent damage, it is my
medical recommendation that we not send anyone else down there.
Captain, I also respectfully request that you report to Sickbay
for neuralscan and physical checkup at your soonest convenience."

"Thank you Doctor Chapel. I'll be right down."

Kirk turned to Spock. "Mister Spock, you're in charge of the
Bridge." Then headed for the turbo-lift.



-17-



"La noblesse est une dignite' due a' la pre'sumption que nous
ferons bien, parce que nos pe'res ont bien fait."
(Hereditary nobility is due to the presumption that we shall do
well because our fathers have done well.)
from Pensees. No. 218, by Joseph Joubert 



Upon entering Sickbay, Kirk went over to the diagnostic bed where
McCoy lay sedated and semiconscious, mumbling incoherently about
his experience within the palace.

"Jim,"

Kirk took his friend's hand. "Shhh, rest, don't talk."

McCoy's memory of being inside the palace was dreamlike and fuzzy
at best. "No, Jim! The palace Adviser not the same one I met last
time."

McCoy was with the ship which first contacted Samara, and had met
the Palace Adviser. He was a young man, a Scholar from the
ChenAra Mountains. The gray haired, robed man McCoy had met this
time was not that Scholar.

McCoy's ability to communicate his experience within the palace
had become impaired therefore it was necessary to employ
extraordinary means of extracting that information. Kirk walked
over to the wall intercom. "Kirk to Bridge."

Spock responded, "Bridge."

"Mister Spock, please come to Sickbay. I have a favor to ask."

Moments later, Spock entered Sickbay, and Kirk relayed to Spock
what little he could understand of McCoy's sedated mumbling.

"Spock, while McCoy was inside the palace he was somehow
mesmerized by a gray haired man dressed in the dark robes of a
Scholar novice claiming to be the Palace Adviser."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "According to my understanding of the
ChenAra Mountain Scholar sect, those who are accepted as novices
are young, between the ages of--"

Kirk broke in before Spock had finished speaking. "Yes, that's my
understanding of the Scholar sect too. McCoy also kept saying
that this wasn't the same Palace Adviser McCoy met when he
visited Samara with the U.S.S. Aries." Then Kirk's facial
expression became serious as he hesitantly approached the subject
which he knew Vulcans found most distasteful.

"Spock , I realize that it's a great personal invasion of
privacy, but to verify our suspicions, I need to ask you to
perform the Vulcan mind touch on McCoy."

"Understood." Spock responded grimly, and approaching McCoy's
bedside, prepared himself for his task ahead.

"My mind to your mind," Spock's conscious mind delved into the
confused recesses of McCoy's mind. "My thoughts are your
thoughts,"

Spock's consciousness entered into a dimly lit room. He could
just barely make out a throne-like dark wood chair off in the
distance. A faceless shadowy, presence sat silently in the chair.
The individual was gray haired, and cowled in the dark colored
Scholar's robe of a novice. As the strange Scholar approached,
Spock's mind touched upon a fuzzy image of a man's face, and he
noted that there was something strangely familiar about it. Spock
sensed that he had seen this face somewhere before, and recently.
The man's clear blue-gray eyes appeared possessed with a
compelling secret obsession. Spock wondered what could this
obsession be? Then Spock consciousness flashed upon a shiny
metallic object, like a brilliantly shining star hanging on a
chain around the man's neck. Spock attempted to achieve visual
clarity of the images within McCoy's mind, however there seemed
to be an overpowering force preventing him from bringing the
images into sharp focus.

Spock began the process of gradually withdrawing his
consciousness from McCoy's mind. Spock then turned to respond to
the anxious question poised on the Captains's face.

"According to what I was able to ascertain from Doctor McCoy's
memory, I am reasonably convinced that it would benefit us to
return to Kadar."

Kirk shot a questioning look at Spock. "Why?"

"I believe the key to many of the unanswered questions we've
encountered since our arrival may be found within the palace."

Kirk agreed, on one major condition. "Spock, before I send anyone
else back down to Samara, we need to find some way of lessening
the effects of the electromagnetic field."

Spock considered the problem for a moment then replied, "There
are two possible approaches to the problem, Captain. First, I
believe I can rig a portable low power screen based on the same
principles as the ship's shields. This would provide personal
protection for the landing party itself. However, it still leaves
the native population under the influence of the electromagnetic
anomaly."

Kirk eyed Spock, "And the other solution?"

"We can attempt to neutralize the field effect at its source.
This is somewhat more difficult, but it can be done. By
projecting a second electromagnetic field on a slightly different
frequency in a continuous wave bombardment, we could induce a
heterodyne effect to destroy the influence of the original
anomaly. A tightly focused beam from the ship would achieve the
desired results without requiring the landing party to carry
extra equipment."

Kirk was bound by General Order Number One not to expose their
more advanced technology. Yet there was a Federation team of
sociologists somewhere down on Samara whose current status was
still unknown, a mysterious Palace Adviser, and a wayward
historian whom Starfleet suspected to be on Samara.

After carefully considering both of Spock's suggestions, Kirk
made his decision. "Your second solution sounds like the most
practical of your two proposed ideas."

"Captain, there are some problems. First, a heterodyne effect has
never been tested outside carefully controlled laboratory
conditions much less on a large magnitude electromagnetic field
such as the localized field on Samara. Secondly, I've calculated
that the amount of energy required to neutralize the
electromagnetic anomaly would place a critical drain on the ship,
and I am dubious of the effectiveness of such an attempt."

Kirk accepted that risk and inquired, "How long would it take you
to rig up a counteracting electromagnetic projector?"

Spock calculated the time necessary. "I could have it completed
within an hour."


"Very well, Mister Spock, begin immediately. We can't afford to
wait around for anymore questions to pop up before we've answered
the ones that we've got." Then both Kirk and Spock headed back to
the Bridge.

Spock thought it prudent to remind the Captain once again of the
`dubious effectiveness' in creating a heterodyne effect.
"Captain, you understand that the heterodyne effect produced
would provide the landing party with temporary protection only."

Kirk nodded, "I understand, Mister Spock, and I appreciate your
concern. However, we seem to have no other reasonable
alternatives, and we have too many questions to answer."

Spock solemnly concurred with the Captain's assessment of their
situation then proceeded with his assigned task.

Exactly one hour later, as estimated, the ship's power had been
channeled into producing the proposed heterodyne effect
temporarily neutralizing the electromagnetic anomaly.

Satisfied that the heterodyne effect would provide a reasonable
degree of safety, Kirk, Spock, and two security guards beamed
down to Samara.



-18-



"Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety." 
from Henry IV, by William Shakespeare 



A speckled lizard like creature sat on an out cropping of rocks
basking in Samara's sun enjoying the tranquility of the morning.
It watched intently through large iridescent blue green eyes as a
hapless insect flitted about just outside its reach. The insect
became increasingly bolder venturing nearer and nearer. Without
warning, the lizard's 20 cm long indigo colored tongue whipped
out snatching the insect from the air.

As the lizard was enjoying its tasty mid-morning snack a second
buzzing sound broke the silence alerting the lizard to the
possibility of catching an additional morsel. Its shinny
translucent, blue green eyes darted about searching for the
source of the sound. The air shimmered strangely as four alien
forms began to take shape. The lizard continued to observe this
strange sight, and even with its limited intelligence, realized
that these creatures were much too big for it to eat. The lizard
shifted its search to smaller prey.

Kirk scanned the general surroundings as Spock kept watch over
the electromagnetic radiation output levels with his carefully
hidden tricorder. Kirk walked over to where Spock was studying
the tricorder readings with a concerned expression. "Spock, how
are we doing? Is that heterodyne effect working?"

"Yes, sir." The `feeling' of Spock's response however left Kirk
unassured.

"Spock?"

Then Spock looked up from his tricorder, still wearing an
ominously concerned expression.

"Captain, I estimate that the heterodyne effect will provide us
with minimal protection for approximately two hours, beyond which
time"

Kirk knew the rest, and interrupted. "I understand. Two hours
should be more than enough time for us to ascertain the status of
the sociology team, the Archon, and to find answers to the other
impending questions."

I hope. He thought. The Enterprise landing party then set on its
way toward Kadar. Due to the protection of the heterodyne effect
they were able to beam safely down slightly closer to the city.
Kirk however cringed as he walked along the dirt road leading
toward the city, remembering his last, not so pleasant trek into
Kadar. In the midst of his disturbing reverie, Kirk was startled
by a familiar beeping, and reaching under his tunic retrieved his
communicator. "Kirk here."

"Scott, here sir."

"Yes Mister Scott what is it?"

"Sir, the energy drain to the ship is nearin' critical! How soon
can ye find the sociology team and get out of there?"

"I estimate about two hours, Mister Scott. Mister Spock has
informed me that there's a projected time limit on how long the
heterodyne effect can be maintained."

"Sir, with all due respect to Mister Spock's projections, the
power maintaining the heterodyne field is using up more of the
ship's energy than we had previously estimated. In other words
Sir, you simply don't have the time for any sight seeing down
there."

Kirk chuckled. "Thank you for the warning Mister Scott. Try to
keep the effect operational for as long as you possibly can. Oh,
and I will see to it personally that we stick strictly to the
Starfleet travel agent's specified agenda. Kirk out."

When the Enterprise landing party had arrived within the capitol
city's periphery, the city was in a state of violent chaos. This
was most disconcerting, however, not unexplainable. Spock
proceeded to expostulate, in his usual, complete and
scientifically unattached manner. "By removing the controlling
agent, a withdrawal reaction results in varying degrees of
irrational behavior in accordance with the distance from the
controlling agent, the length of exposure time to the controlling
agent, and the strength of the Electromagnetic field to which the
individual is exposed."

Kirk showed Spock a perfunctory sign of comprehension then
noticed a angry looking group of people coming in their
direction. Not wanting to incite a confrontation, Kirk ordered
the landing party to pick up their pace.

The first stop on their agenda was the Federation sociology team
encampment, nestled inconspicuously approximately 900 meters away
from the palace. The sociologist's had been granted, by the
Archon, several small sturdily made shacks from which they could
make their observations. Kirk didn't know what he would find when
they got to the sociologist's camp, but his gut feeling was that
there would be signs of foul play.

As the Enterprise landing party approached, the shacks appeared
to have been abandoned. Inside the shacks, as Kirk had feared,
although there were no ominous signs of a struggle, it looked as
if the sociology team had dropped everything and left. Once
again, Kirk's communicator started beeping insistently. Flipping
it open Kirk responded. "Kirk here."

"Captain, are yea almost ready to beam back up? The energy being
supplied to Spock's heterodyne effect is..."

Kirk, not wanting to hear the rest, interrupted, "No, Mister
Scott, we haven't found the sociology team, or the Archon Sagi
yet."

Without waiting to see if the Captain had finished speaking,
Mister Scott anxiously interjected, "But Sir, yea dona ha' much
time!"

"Mister Scott, please try and keep the heterodyne effect
operative just a little while longer! That's an order, Scotty,"
Kirk said pleadingly.

"Aye, Sir, I know, I'll do ma' best. Scott out."

Kirk turned to Spock and demanded, "All right, the sociologists
aren't here, where would the most likely place for them to be?"

The answer to his question had been suggested by Spock even
before they'd beamed down to Samara. Therefore the landing party
set on their way toward the palace at a purposeful pace.

Kirk could once again see the spires of the blood red marble
palace building a mere 0.8 km away. Upon arriving at the palace,
Kirk marched up the familiar stone steps ahead of the rest of the
landing party and, once again facing the imposing wooden door,
pounded on it, with the door knocker, then stepped back and
awaited a response. After waiting a short time, Kirk tried
twisting the door handle. Apparently the guard had left the door
unlocked. Kirk pushed the door open, peered inside, and seeing no
one, entered the palace cautiously. The rest of the landing party
followed closely behind.

The landing party was well within the palace by now. Kirk was
still at the fore with Spock following closely at his right, and
the security team vigilantly watching the rear.

Spock glanced down at the confused tricorder readings then over
at his Captain. "Captain, although the heterodyne effect is
protecting us from experiencing harmful effects of the
Electromagnetic anomaly, residual electromagnetic emanations are
affecting the accuracy of my tricorder readings."

Kirk, nodding in acknowledgment, replied, "All right, Spock.
We've been in situations before when our sensors weren't
functioning, so, where would be the most logical place for us to
start looking for an Archon, and a team of missing sociologists?"

Spock had insufficient information to accurately evaluate the
situation, and derive a logical course of action. They were
therefore forced to feel their way along as they went. To comply
with the time restraint placed upon them, Kirk decided they might
cover more territory by splitting the group. So, Kirk and one of
the security officers headed down one corridor while Spock and
the other officer started down an adjoining hallway. As Kirk
moved cautiously down the corridor, he noticed it was lined on
both sides by doors leading into various rooms. With his
tricorder being ineffective, Kirk looked into each room as they
went along. After peering into several dimly lit, empty rooms, he
found one of the doors was locked.

Most curious, Kirk thought. He then queried softly aloud, "Why do
you suppose they'd want to keep this door locked?" Raising his
foot, Kirk released a sudden powerful karate kick breaking the
lock. He then gently pushed the door open. Kirk and the
accompanying security officer stepped cautiously inside.

Kirk sensed a presence in this room. He then picked up the
rasping sounds of someone's labored breathing. Following the
sound of breathing over to a heavily pillowed settee, he found
the Archon Sagi, laying slumped, unconscious, and possibly dying.
Kirk flipped opened his communicator, praying that it would
function.

"Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk to Enterprise."

"Scott here." The communicator connection was fuzzy, but audible,
and the Chief Engineer's voice was laced with concern.

"Mister Scott, order the transporter to lock in on my signal and
prepare to beam up the Archon Sagi. Then ask Doctor McCoy, and a
team of medics to be standing by in the transporter room."

"Aye Sir, the transporter is locked in on your signal, and we'll
beam the Archon up immediately. Captain, aren't you and the rest
of the landing party beaming up too?"

"No, not yet Mister Scott. We split up the landing party into two
groups, Spock's group hasn't checked in yet."

"I hate ta keep repeating myself, Sir, but your running out of
time."

"I understand. I will contact the other team, and check on their
progress. Scotty, keep that heterodyne effect going--"

"Sir, you will have at most another 20 minutes, before I'm afraid
I'll have to beam the rest of you back aboard. Scott out."

Moments later, the shimmering effect of the transporter beamed up
the unconscious Archon. While Kirk watched the last of the
transporter effect, his communicator began beeping, summoning his
attention.

"Kirk here."

"Sir, Spock here. We've located the sociology team, they appear
to be uninjured."

"That's good news, Mister Spock! Have Mister Scott beam them
aboard, and let Doctor McCoy take a look at them, just to be
sure. Then meet with me where the two corridors converge. Kirk
out."

As Kirk left the room and headed down the corridor, he felt as if
a heavy burden had just been lifted from his shoulders. Spock
also hastened toward their assemblage point with a feeling of
relief.

Kirk flipped open his communicator again to ascertain the
security team's progress. "Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here."

"Has the sociology team safely beamed aboard the Enterprise?"

"Yes, sir, Mister Scott informed me he'd be ready to beam the
landing party back aboard as soon as we are all together at the
rendezvous point."

"Thank you Mister Spock. Then let's not keep Mister Scott
waiting. Kirk out."



-19-



"Now comes the mystery." 
Henry Ward Beecher 



After completing his scheduled morning audiences, Gershon Ravid
hurried to his private office. As he walked along, Gershon
nervously reviewed his encounter two hours earlier with the
Starship Medical Officer.

Gershon Ravid recalled he was in the main audience chamber when
the annoying little man who guarded the front door entered,
bowed, and in a loud, officious manner announced, "Honored
Scholar Adviser, please forgive my intrusion, I beg to inform you
that there is a group of strangers at the front door wishing to
see the elder Archon. They have brought with them a Healer."

Gershon recalled the feeling of a slight flush of panic upon
receiving the message.

The little guard paused briefly, then continued, "I have ordered
them to leave, and have informed them that the Archon is being
cared for by Palace Physicians, as per your instructions."

Upon completion of the message, the little man bowed again,
turned and left the audience chamber, only to return breathless a
few moments later. "Most Honored Scholar Palace Adviser"

Startled, Gershon abruptly demanded, "Yes, yes what is it now?"

Then the little man began again, "Oh, most Honored Scholar Palace
Adviser."

Gershon closed his eyes, groaned silently, then impatiently
signaled for him to continue.

The guard continued with his message, "the leader of the group of
strangers claims to have met the Archon. The stranger calls
himself James Kirk." The little guard finished his message he
bobbed his head and respectfully stood waiting for instructions.

Once again he experienced a feeling of panic. The name of James
T. Kirk was as well known, as was the unequaled reputation of the
U.S.S. Enterprise!

He could not risk further interference with his plans. "I will
allow only the physician to come in to see the Archon. Bring the
physician to me here." The guard acknowledged the command and
scurried from the room.

Alone again in the audience chamber, he sat on the throne like
chair and anxiously awaited the presence of the Federation
doctor.

A blue-eyed, fragile looking man stumbled into the audience
chamber in a state of dazed confusion. Gershon smiled to himself
as he recalled having expected someone of more impressive
stature.

He sat for a moment, quietly, perched like a predatory bird
observing a small unsuspecting creature, then he stood, and
introduced himself.

"Greetings Doctor, welcome to Samara. I am the Palace Advisor
Gershon Ravid. How may we help you?"

The Federation doctor frowned, nodded and in a baffled tone
responded, "Yes, greetings. I am Doctor Leonard McCoy, and I
believe that's my line, sir."

Placing an inconspicuous hand on his medallion he approached
Doctor McCoy and, then trying to appear genuinely confused, said,
"I don't think I understand."

Doctor McCoy blinked, and asked numbly, "The Archon, isn't he
sick?"

Attempting to sound reassuring Gershon responded, "Yes, our
revered elder Archon has been ill that is true. The elder Archon
is currently being well cared for, and I am personally seeing to
his recovery."

In his current state of confusion, Doctor McCoy shook his head in
an attempt to clear away the mental fog which was mysteriously
clouding his capacity to think clearly, then asked if he could be
escorted back to the front door.

Once the doctor had been safely ushered from the Main Audience
chamber, Gershon Ravid then headed nervously toward his office.
When safely cloistered within his own private domain, Gershon
sank into the lushly pillowed chair at his desk. He sat forward
in his chair, with beads of sweat rolling down his temple, his
hands clenched, now found himself faced with an unanticipated
obstruction of major proportions-a Federation starship captain!
James T. Kirk was not just any starship captain. This particular
starship captain was well known for his ability to sense when
something wasn't quite right, and for his stubborn persistence in
finding answers. As his mind began to focus into concentrated
thought, Gershon Ravid sensed the beginning of the end.



*****

Gershon was still trying to find a way to regain control of
events when growing sounds of chaos outside the safety of his
private office demanded his attention. Concerned, Gershon stepped
out into the hallway, and approached a lone palace attendant who
was obviously frightened and confused. Focusing his thoughts to
activate the Electromagnetic field strength of his medallion,
Gershon frantically discovered he did not receive the expected
response of compliance. Panicked, Gershon thought, The Medallion
has somehow stopped working! But how?!

Following his failure to affect the attendant's behavior, Gershon
Ravid reasoned it would best to retreat temporarily into hiding
until he was able to discover what had happened, and how once
again to get the situation back under his control. Gershon was
turning to duck back into his private office when he heard the
young Archon pro tem coming. Then, recognizing that his private
office would not be a safe place to hide, he frantically scurried
down an adjoining hallway.

Gershon Ravid headed toward the front door via a maze of side
passages shown to him by the young Archon. He was then going to
seek sanctuary at an abandoned grain storage barn, located just
outside the city, which he had remembered seeing once. Or was
that a memory from another time? At any rate, he frantically
hoped that there would be a safe haven for him there.

Suddenly alerted by the sounds of approaching voices, Gershon
quickly dodged into the nearest room. His heart was pounding as
he waited quietly for the people to pass out of view. Once the
cause of the commotion was out of sight, Gershon slithered out of
the room and continued to make his way toward the front entrance
of the palace. As Gershon stealthily crept along, he reflected
upon how the disruption of his carefully laid plans had started.
Then in muted angry tones Gershon whispered, "Kirk!"

Gershon quickened his pace as he moved silently through the maze
of corridors. As he came to a nexus in the corridor, Gershon
stood for a few moments, and anxiously considered which way would
be the safest route. They say that the shortest route between two
points is a straight line, Gershon, scratching his head, peered
nervously around him, and seeing no one, then continued reviewing
his options. The right, leads to the front door by way of the
palace's prison where there are many empty cells in which I could
hide. The other way, going off to the left, leads more or less
directly towards the front door.

Just as Gershon was about to turn to go to the right, he heard
the sounds of footsteps and voices coming toward him from the
direction of the prison cells. He quickly altered his direction
of retreat and darted to the left down the hallway leading
straight toward the front entrance. He walked along quickly and
quietly, remaining alert to the sound of anyone coming in his
direction. Just a little way more, and I will be out of the
palace, he thought to himself.

Gershon then suddenly experienced a sense of being followed, no,
worse, he was feeling surrounded. He stopped, gasping for breath,
more from nervousness than from physical exertion, and peered
around him. Gershon held his breath and listened for the sound of
anyone coming. Not too far behind him, Gershon could hear the
sounds of at least two sets of heavy footsteps heading in his
direction. Panicked, Gershon started moving quickly toward the
turn at the other end of the hallway. Then the two men Gershon
had heard coming, turned the corner, and proceeded to close in
behind him. Just as Gershon was preparing to dodge around the
corner, two more formidable-looking strangers rounded the corner,
blocking his escape.

Seeing the Federation officers suddenly appear, Gershon Ravid
stopped short. His hood slipped down his shoulders revealing a
head of wildly mussed steel-grey hair. His clear blue gray eyes
revealed the desperation of a man feeling trapped and defeated.

Facing the latter two officers as the first two closed in to
complete his capture, he announced, "I am Gershon Ravid, Palace
Adviser!" He then demanded, "Who are you?! What do you want? What
are you doing here? And how did you get into the palace?"

Instead of responding, Kirk's hard glance held the advisor's
complete attention as he said, "Doctor Mathias I presume?"

Meanwhile, Spock's focus had turned to the unusual medallion worn
by the suspected errant historian. One of Spock's eyebrows
suddenly ascended into an expression of surprise. Sensing that
something was brewing in his First Officer's ever active mind,
Kirk glanced over.

"Spock, what is it?"

Before responding to the Captain's inquiry however, Spock
extended his hand toward Mathias and asked, "May I please examine
your medallion more closely, sir?"

Mathias's clear blue gray eye's suddenly grew dark as his pupils
expanded in fear, as he backed away from Spock. An expression of
panic spread over Mathias' face as he caressed the medallion
tightly with both hands. "This is only a simple medallion. Of
what possible interest could it be to you, sir?"

Kirk's eyebrows drew together, and his face and jaw became hard
as stone as he continued eyeing his First Officer.

Spock then proceeded to elaborate. "Captain, it is imperative
that I have an opportunity to examine the medallion which Dr
Mathias is wearing before we beam back aboard the ship."

Kirk looked at his First Officer with an expression of annoyance.
"Spock, your scientific curiosity is commendable, however in this
particular case, I think perhaps you're being just a wee bit over
zealous. Couldn't your examination of the medallion wait until
we're back aboard the Enterprise?"

As Kirk got out his communicator preparing to issue the order for
beam up, much to the surprise of both men, Spock reached over and
retrieved the medallion from around Doctor Mathias's neck, and
proceeded to carefully examine the unusual design on the front of
it. Kirk held off the order to beam up, and asked, "Spock, what
is it about that medallion that's so intriguing?"

Spock turned his intense gaze away from the medallion, with his
usual somber expression, and responded to the Captain's impatient
query.

"Captain, according to my peremptory examination, this medallion
appears to be some sort of Kirlian aura tuning device which could
be used to selectively enhance or suppress specific mind/body
processes by directing one's thoughts via thought energy
projection. In the wrong hands, `aura-tuning' could be perverted
into a blatant mind control. I have also noted that it is
currently exuding a barely detectable electromagnetic field which
I believe could have an adverse affect outside of the heterodyne
neutralizing effect."

Kirk looked down at the seemingly innocuous piece of jewelry,
then glanced back at Spock with a concerned, questioning
expression and asked, "Spock, are you telling me then that this
innocent looking medallion is what was causing the mysterious
electromagnetic anomaly?"

Spock solemnly nodded and responded, "Yes, sir."

Kirk remanded custody of the errant historian over to the
security team before Mathias could react, then opened the
communicator channel. "Mister Scott, please beam the security
team and Doctor Richard Mathias aboard. Spock seems to think that
a medallion might have had something to do with the
electromagnetic anomaly. If so, I'm sure you recognize the risks
implicated"

"But sir, I've got ta shut dun the heterodyne effect now!"

"Then let's figure out a way to transport this troublemaker
aboard."

Opening his own carefully concealed communicator, Spock calmly
intervened, and expounded his solution to their problem. "I
assure you, Mister Scott, we understand the seriousness of the
situation. Please prepare a 16 cm cubic copper mesh container,
and beam it down to us immediately. Spock out."

Through Kirk's open communicator channel, they heard a loud sigh
of tension as Scotty replied, "Aye. Sir, I'll have it down to you
right away. Scott out."

The two remaining officers watched as the transporter effect took
away the Scholar and the security team. Then a few minutes later,
the prescribed copper mesh box appeared. Spock carefully placed
the medallion into the copper mesh box, and then the last two
members of the Enterprise landing party safely beamed up.



-20-



"The cause craves haste" 
Shakespeare's The Rape of Lucrece 



As soon as the team of sociologists were beamed aboard they were
quickly ushered to sickbay. Their demeanor was excited to the
point of frenzied agitation. Aaron, Dagan and their four
colleagues talked excitedly amongst themselves with the angry hum
of bees whose hive had just been rudely and violently disturbed.

Dagan walked breathlessly a few paces behind Aaron. Shaking his
head angrily, he spoke urgently to Aaron, "Aaron what are we
going to do about the situation down on Samara?! Who's running
the government?"

Also shaking his head, Aaron had a deeply concerned expression.
Sightly winded himself, he responded, "I don't know any more
about what's going on down there than you do. However, when you
said we had been summoned to the palace for an immediate
audience, I mistakenly assumed it was to be with the Archon Sagi!
Now, I just don't know!"

By the time the harried entourage of security guards and ruffled
sociologists arrived at Sickbay, the elder Archon had been
transported up and was solicitously being tended to by Doctor
McCoy.

Aaron strode up to the diagnostic bed, inquiring in a demanding
tone of voice, "What happened here?!"

McCoy looked up, his patience was tried to the limits, as he met
the newcomer's insistent gaze. Raising an indignant eyebrow,
McCoy let out an exasperated sigh and announced, "My colleague
will see to your medical needs." McCoy turned toward his
co-worker and said, "Doctor Chapel, will you please do the
honors." He then returned his attention to the Archon's care.

Christine Chapel smiled and proceeded to usher the sociology team
members into an adjoining examination room. "Please follow me."

Aaron, gently catching hold of her arm, demanded once again,
"Doctor Chapel, please tell us what the Hell happened to the
Archon!"

Releasing her arm from his grasp, Christine Chapel turned toward
Aaron with a stern expression, and in a calm professional manner,
responded, "The Captain will answer all of your questions in due
course of time. You will need to be patient."

Upon entering the examination room, she then handed each of them
a pair of thin materialized bluish-gray colored, one piece
coveralls and instructed, "Please change into these and I will
proceed with the examinations."

Once they had all changed into the prescribed clothing, she
asked, "Do any of you have any specific complaints to report?"
Pausing, Christine noticed through her peripheral vision that
Aaron was about to speak, and politely, but brusquely curtailed
his expression by asking, "All right then if there are no
immediately relevant complaints, which of you would like to be
first?"

Aaron glared at Christine feeling summarily blocked, then sighed
and grumbled, "I'll go first. The sooner I get this examination
over with, the sooner I may be getting some answers!"

Christine smiled politely. "Very well." Then indicating a vacant
and preset diagnostic bed, Christine ordered, "Please lie down
here if you would."



*****

In the other examination room the Archon was beginning to show
signs of consciousness. Bending over him, McCoy softly said,
"Archon Sagi, can you hear me? My name is Doctor Leonard McCoy.
You are aboard the--" McCoy quickly stopped, and thought, I
wonder exactly how much these people know about us? McCoy then
continued, rephrasing what he had been about to say. "You are
safe."

The Archon opened his eyes slightly, looked up at McCoy and
gasped weakly, "Be my people safe?"

McCoy looked up, and then with a furrowed worried expression,
looked down at the Archon and responded, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't
know."

Breathing heavily, the Archon reached up to grasp McCoy's arm and
began to gasp. "The Scholar adviser !"

Gently removing the Archon's hand, McCoy smiled and tried to
appear reassuring. "I have a very good friend who is, at this
moment, out looking for your palace adviser to question him."

The Archon's expression was concerned and confused. "This
Scholar, he be not what he claimed of being."

McCoy nodded. "Shhhh. Yes, Archon, we know. Rest now. I'll be
near by in case you need anything." The Archon closed his eyes
and drifted back into a restless sleep. With a furrowed
expression, McCoy looked up at the bio-sensor readouts. The bio
scans showed that the Archon's condition was improving slowly but
steadily.

McCoy then leaned over and pressed the intra-sickbay intercom
button. "Doctor Chapel"

"Yes, Doctor," Christine Chapel's response sounded
ever-so-slightly preoccupied.


"Doctor Chapel, how are your examinations on the sociologists
coming along?" McCoy inquired.

"I'm just now completing my bio-scan tests. From what I'm able to
find so far, there are signs of some very minor physical
depravation. I will be performing a neurological scan next to
test for any possible damage as a result of over exposure to the
electromagnetic field."

As Doctor Chapel completed her preliminary report, McCoy raised a
Spockian eyebrow then thought, I believe we've both been over
exposed to that Vulcan first officer! He sighed tiredly and then
responded aloud, "Thank you Doctor Chapel. Please let me know if
you do find any neurological effects from the Electromagnetic
radiation."

"Yes, Doctor." Then the channel was closed.

McCoy glanced down at the Archon, who was sleeping more restfully
now, then pressed the intra-ship intercom button. "Bridge, this
is Sickbay. Remember us?"

Mister Scott, now in temporary command, responded in a tired but
still good humored brogue. "Aye Doctor McCoy, we all know your
still with us. What can I do for ye?"

Huffing slightly, McCoy responded, "Well Mister Scott, you could
first tell me if the Captain and Spock are back yet, and has
anyone found that mysterious Scholar?!"

"As a matter a' fact Doctor, the Captain just a few moments ago
contacted the ship saying they've captured your strange Scholar
palace adviser, and not only that, but it seems as though Mister
Spock suspects we've also captured that missing historian as
well, and we're beaming them, or rather the prisoner up now as we
speak!"

Sitting back with a pleased air of command Scotty then added,
"Aye Doctor, we've caught two bonny birds all rolled into one!"

McCoy chuckled. "Scotty, I think you've just mixed your
metaphors, but I get the general picture. Will the prisoner be
needing medical treatment?"

Sitting up Scotty replied, "Ah don't know Doctor. I believe
that's your specialty. Mine, of course is tending to ma' wee
bairns and that' damned Heterodyne"

Laughing, McCoy interjected, "All right Mister Scott, I'll send
someone down to check on what's-his-name while you take care of
your `wee bairns'. McCoy out."

Having just completed her examinations, Christine Chapel emerged
from the adjacent room, with a cryptic expression.

McCoy looked in her direction and asked in a surprisingly good
natured manner, "Christine, what's the verdict?" His expression
then became more concerned as he inquired, "Is it serious?"

Doctor Chapel hardened her facial expression, and pursing her
lips slightly then sighed and reported, "My neuro-scans showed
signs of minor degrees of reversible damage due to over exposure
to the effect of electromagnetic field."

McCoy then asked, "So, if there's no serious physical or
neurological problems then tell me, what is it that's disturbing
you?"

Christine glanced toward the examining room she had just left
moments before, then returned her attention to McCoy. Her
delicate, and well manicured brow was furrowed. "As I was
examining each of the sociologists I couldn't help but over hear
them talking."

McCoy solicitously prompted her to continue, "Go on what did they
say?"

With her brow still furrowed, Christine, who ordinarily was not
one to engage in either gossip or hear-say accounts of events,
inhaling deeply, then proceeded to give a detailed description of
what she had managed to over-hear.



*****

Aaron had complied with Doctor Chapel's request to lie down on
the diagnostic bed with an air of dissatisfaction. Dagan turned
to one of his colleagues. Shaking his head, his expression
reflecting the troubled feeling inside, he said, "We should have
contacted Starfleet the moment we began sensing that something
not right!"

The attending listener nodded in agreement. "I was under the
impression that Scholars' didn't believe in participating in
government."

Dagan nodded. "Right, we should have been immediately suspicious
when we started hearing the rumors about a ChenAra Mountain
Scholar's being named Palace Adviser!"

Dagan paused to glance over to see how the physical examination
was coming along, he was next in line to be examined. He then
sighed and turned back around once again to continue speaking,
"According to little we know about the Scholars sect, whenever
advice or assistance is offered by them, it's in the form of
parental guidance."

The other then concluded, "Well, the palace adviser did more than
offer parental advice! He took over the whole shooting match!"



*****

Christine fell silent then McCoy smiled and asked, "So they
suspected the palace adviser wasn't a Scholar, but they couldn't
have figured on his being a miss placed historian!"

Christine also smiled. "No, Samara is off limits to off worlders
except by special permission of the Archon."

Chuckling, McCoy then remarked, "Yeah, you can bet that
what's-his-name in the brig didn't bother tell'in anyone 'bout
his illicit little plans for take'in over the planet with that
blasted electromagnetic bobble!"

Christine laughed softly. "No." Then in a more serious tone, she
asked, "So do we even know how he got to Samara?"

McCoy frowned and shook his head. "Nope." McCoy then glanced over
to the readouts over the Archon's bed. "Which reminds
me...speak'in of whats-his-name, I'd like you to go on down to
the brig to see if he, who ever he is, needs any medical
treatment before Jim gets a hold him for interrogation."

Christine, smiled and nodded. "Yes Doctor." She then picked up a
medakit and left sickbay.



-21-



"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs." 
from She Stoops to Conquer, by Oliver Goldsmith 




Once aboard, Spock headed for the ship's science lab with the
copper mesh box containing the medallion, and Kirk headed for the
Sickbay.

As Kirk entered Sickbay he spotted, Doctor McCoy who, having
sufficiently recovered from the effects of the electromagnetic
field, stood examining the overhead bioscan monitor beside the
diagnostic bed upon which the Archon lay. The readings above the
Archon's bed showed that he was still unconscious, however he
appeared to be breathing more easily. Kirk approached the Archon,
and glanced up at the indecipherable bioscan readings and asked
anxiously, "Bones how is the Archon, will he be all right?"

Ignoring Kirk at first, McCoy continued staring at the overhead
readouts. He then turned to face Kirk and drawled, "When you said
I might have something exciting to do when we got to Samara, you
weren't jus' whisl'in Dixie!" McCoy let out a sigh, and
continued, "Jim the Archon has been through a lot. That Damned
electromagnetic gizmo has taken it's toll on everyone exposed to
it."

After calming down somewhat, McCoy continued with his report in a
more professional manner. "The Archon's physical condition was
depleted when he was first brought aboard. However, with
separation from that damned electromagnetic energy field he will,
with a little time and the proper medical care, regain his
physical strength. The Archon's already showing some
improvement."

Doctor McCoy paused to glance up at the diagnostic readings then,
with a heavy tired sounding sigh, continued his report, "It's his
mental/psychological condition I'm seriously concerned about."

"Explain." Kirk asked, concerned.

"It's almost as if he's been hypnotized and, over an extended
period of time, forced to accept a situation which went contrary
to his sense of what's right and wrong."

"You mean that through the misuse of the electromagnetic field
generator, Doctor Mathias attempted to convince those around him
that what he was doing was `right', and the Archon fought it?"
Kirk interjected.

McCoy nodded, and confirmed Kirk's reasonable conclusion. "Yes,
and once the Archon figured out what Mathias was doing, he
resisted to the point of a physical breakdown."

With a grim expression Kirk looked down at the ancient face of
the now, peacefully resting Archon, then turned on his heals and
headed for the Brig.



*****

By now Kirk had managed to irrefutably identify Mathias, through
retina scan, as being the missing historian Starfleet had ordered
him to keep an eye out for. On his way to the Brig Kirk
considered the, as yet, unanswered questions of where and how
Mathias came into possession of the medallion, and what Mathias'
purpose was for violating Federation law by being on a protected
planet.

As Kirk approached the holding cell he heard Security Chief
Johnson asking Mathias the very same questions which he had been
wondering about.

"Doctor Mathias, did you realize that the planet Samara is listed
as `protected', and that No `outworlder', without specially given
permission by Starfleet Council, is allowed to approach, much
less, illegally invade a planet so listed? And what were you
doing on Samara?"

Mathias, who had been sitting, looked up at the Security Chief.
Mathias' face appeared worn, as he proceeded to respond slowly,
"Yes , I had knowledge of Samara's status."

Mathias paused, stood up, and walked to the back of the cell.
Then turned around, and, facing the Security Chief, exclaimed, "I
was only trying to bring about a way of life to the Samaran
people which won't hap--" Mathias stopped abruptly, and began
again. "...which might not happened for many centuries if left to
develop on its own."

Kirk entered the holding cell, nodded to the Security Chief,
ordering him to maintain his post outside the cell. Then Kirk
stood for a few moments, silently staring into Mathias' clear
blue gray eyes before asking, "Where and how did you come into
possession of the medallion?"

The suddenness of the question, and the hard authority in Kirk's
voice, made Mathias shudder. His mouth opened as if to respond,
then closed again. Mathias walked quietly back over to the cot in
his cell and sat down, his wringing hands clutched together in
his lap. He then reluctantly looked up into the Captain's
piercing hazel eyes.

Mathias knew that the Project Memory Alpha was coded as top
secret by Starfleet, and didn't want to run the risk of breaking
any further regulations. Mathias quietly responded, "I found the
medallion while I was on Samara during an historical information
gathering expedition."

Kirk stepped toward Mathias and looked down at the prevaricating
historian.

Defeated, Mathias, let out a sigh. Mathias looked down at his
hands, and thought to himself. `It's over. My plans to help a
world grow out of its violent stage into one of peace and order
have failed. All my good intentions have resulted in near
disaster for the people of Samara. I will probably spend the rest
of my natural life in some prison somewhere with criminals whose
intentions were to do harm.' Mathias remained silent, and just
continued looking down at his hands.

Kirk, now suspecting where Mathias had come into possession of
the medallion, left the holding cell and continued on his way to
the science lab.



*****

In the Science lab, Spock sat at the computer console studying
the curiously familiar etched symbols on the front of the
medallion. Setting down the copper mesh box containing the
medallion, Spock summoned the computer through voice activation.

"Computer on."

"Working." The computer's tinny, synthesized female voice
responded immediately upon command.

"Review current information known on the ChenAra Mountain Scholar
sect, of planet Samara, specifically the symbols used by the
Scholars to represent the study of Knowledge, Truth, Wisdom,
Guidance, and Unity."

"Working." The computer acknowledge, then with a humming sound,
proceeded to locate the requested information.

Within a few moments the computer displayed the requested
information upon the CRT screen. Spock studied the symbols on the
screen comparing them with the etchings on the medallion. Spock
noted that the symbols used on the medallion, although quite
evidently cognate to the symbols displayed the CRT screen,
appeared to have undergone change through an evolutionary
process. Spock ordered the computer to return to inactive mode.

Spock next turned his attention to reexamining the medallion's
metallic structure. A complete scan of the medallion had been
performed immediately upon bringing it aboard. The scan readouts
showed that the medallion was made from an unknown metallic alloy
displaying strong electromagnetic proclivities. It seemed very
unlikely that the current technology of Samara could have
manufactured such a device, and yet someone did.

Just then Kirk entered the science lab with a determined look on
his face. Spock looked up as the Captain came over and sat down
on an adjacent chair. With a concerned expression Kirk asked,
"Spock, what have you found out about this medallion?"

"I am reasonably certain that the medallion's origin is of the
ChenAra Mountain Scholar sect."

Kirk interrupted, "That ties in with Mathias' claim to have found
the medallion on Samara."

Then Spock continued, "However, the medallion appears to have
been produced by a technology which is considerably more advanced
than the current known Samaran technology."

Kirk sat quietly mulling over the implications of what Spock had
just said, then asked, "Spock, I've heard rumors to the effect
that the Scholars of the ChenAra Mountains are said to have
achieved levels of scientific knowledge which may even surpass
Federation technology. Wouldn't it then be possible for them to
have made such a device?"

Spock considered the Captain's question for a few moments, before
responding. "If they do, in fact, possess such `advanced
knowledge', then yes, it would be quite possible for them to have
devised an aura tuning device based on a carefully monitored
electromagnetic field. However, according to what information we
have, the ChenAran Scholars appear to apply their knowledge only
in accordance with the current socio-technological development of
the Samaran people."

"Sort of like our Prime Directive?" Kirk mused aloud.

"Precisely," Spock continued. "Usage of a behavior controlling
device, at this stage of Samaran development, as we have already
witnessed, nearly resulted in irreparable damage to the Samaran
cultural development."

Kirk solemnly nodded, and sat back in his chair. "Yes, too close
for comfort."

Spock could sense the tension within his Captain, and silently
raised an eyebrow.

Through the years of having served with Spock, Kirk had learned
that a raised eyebrow was, for a Vulcan sometimes used as a sign
of inquiry. Therefore Kirk proceeded to answer his First
Officer's unasked question. "Spock, you assessed that there was a
possible connection with, or link between the medallion and the
ChenAra Mountain Scholars."

Spock remained silent.

Kirk concluded, "Since we now know where Mathias got the
medallion, I feel that our current best course of action is to
return to Samara, talk to the Scholars, and ask them if they know
anything about the medallion."

Spock evaluated the information, then responded to the Captain's
final conclusions. "Captain, the Scholars are not likely to be
amenable to such a meeting. They value privacy almost to the
extreme, and they uphold rigid standards regarding the revelation
of their knowledge."

Kirk interjected, "Like not wanting their advanced knowledge to
be discovered too soon, as when any advanced culture comes into
contact with a culture of lesser socio-technological
development?"

Spock nodded. "Yes."

Kirk protested, "But Spock, we're not necessarily of lesser
socio-technological development! Don't you think the Scholars
would agree to talk to us?"

Spock responded, "Our socio-technological development does
surpass that of the recorded Samaran socio-technological
development, but the Scholars do not know this. Also according to
what little information we have regarding the ChenAra Mountain
Scholars, their knowledge appears to be solely focused upon the
timely guidance of the Samaran people. And, Captain, we are not
native to their world."


Kirk pounded his fist gently against the table top and retorted,
"Spock, we've got to try to get them to talk to us. The Scholars
just might have the knowledge we need," Kirk stood up. "Spock,
prepare to beam down to Samara with me, one last time. I feel the
answer to the mystery of that medallion is close at hand."




-22-



"Change doth unknit the tranquil strength of men." 
Mathew Arnold 



Spock's right eyebrow rose as he watched his captain storm
determinedly out the Science Lab. Spock then glanced down again
at the mysteriously familiar designs on the medallion.

Kirk's jaw was set as he headed down the corridor. He went over
to a wall intercom, and pounded down on the button to speak.
"Kirk to sickbay !"

"Sickbay, Jim?" McCoy responded.

"Bones have you completed your examinations yet on the sociology
team we rescued?" Kirk's voice was strained and tired sounding.

"Well yes, Christine finished just a few minutes ago." McCoy's
response was then cut short.

Kirk brusquely asked, "How are they? Did any of them suffer any
adverse affects from the Electromagnetic field?"

McCoy responded, "According to Christine, they're disheveled and
maybe emotionally a little worse for wear, but as far as there
being any medical problems due to that damned electromagnetic
field, all checked out Okay."

Kirk sighed impatiently then asked, "Thanks Bones. Where are they
now? Are they still in Sickbay?"

McCoy responded calmly, "No Jim, they're no longer here. I
believe the security guards have taken them to their quarters."

"Thank you." Abruptly closing his connection with sickbay, Kirk
then demanded, "Guest quarters this is Captain Kirk."

A startled response came through the intercom. "Yes, Captain
Kirk, this is Aaron Mckenzie speaking."

Kirk had managed to quell his feeling of impatience as he then
requested, "Mister Mckenzie, I would like for you and your
sociology team to meet with me in the conference room on D deck
in ten minutes please."

"Very well Captain." Aaron then turned to meet the worried
glances of his colleagues. They had all gathered together in
Aaron's quarters both for moral support and to discuss their
recent ordeal.

One of the sociologists asked, worried, "You don't suppose they
think we had anything to do with what's been happening on Samara,
do you?"

Aaron smiled, and shook his head trying to seem reassuring, "No,
we were merely innocent victims of this madness just as were the
Samarans."

Inside however he was fearing that Starfleet might view them to
be equally guilty by mere fact of association. The irrefutable
and damning facts pointing toward their culpability were that,
one, they didn't do anything to stop the insanity, and secondly,
they were then naively lured in and imprisoned!

Aaron silently wondered if the rest of his colleagues were
feeling as foolish, and humiliated right now as he was. Clapping
his hands together resolutely, he suggested, "Okay, let's go find
out what the Captain wants to talk to about." They all quietly
left the stateroom and headed toward the conference room.



*****

Kirk released a tense sigh, lightly drumming the fingers of his
right hand on the conference room table as he sat waiting for the
sociology team to arrive. Kirk's awareness of the room around him
fazed out momentarily as he began reviewing the mysterious events
of the past several days. Then his subconscious mind picked up on
the familiar whooshing noise of a pneumatic door opening drawing
Kirk's attention toward the sound.

Kirk stood. "Gentlemen, permit me to say a belated welcome to the
Enterprise, I only wish that your presence aboard my ship could
have been under less disturbing circumstances. I am Captain James
T. Kirk. Please be seated."

Smiling, Aaron sat down. The others followed suit. "Thank you
Captain Kirk. Can you tell us anything about what's been going on
down on Samara?"

Kirk's eyebrows rose. "Well, Mister Mckenzie, I'm afraid some of
what we currently know about the situation down on Samara falls
into the category of top security information. However, what I
needed to discuss with you and the rest of your group is the
reparation of the mess left behind."

Dagan motioned to ask a question.

Kirk acknowledged, "Yes?"

"Captain, do you know who the ChenAra Mountain Scholar posing as
the palace adviser is? Is he a rogue Scholar?"

Then Kirk, smiling, responded, "The man claiming to be a ChenAra
Mountain Scholar and assuming the role of palace adviser was not
a Scholar, rogue or otherwise. His identity however, is currently
classified also and so, I'm sorry, I can't tell you who he really
is at this moment."

Clasping his hands together, and resting them on the conference
room table, Kirk resumed the previous discussion regarding
reparation. "Now then, the damage left behind by the fake Scholar
palace adviser is extensive and Starfleet has asked me to ask if
you would consider beaming back down into the middle of a
hornet's nest, to assist Archon Sagi in reclaiming his
government, and to help with the task of returning life on Samara
back to its normal course."

Sighing heavily, with a furrowed brow, Aaron asked, "Captain Kirk
of course we want to help, but at the moment we know nothing of
what ignited the people of Kadar to suddenly become irrationally
prone to violence. When we first arrived on Samara we noted
normal outbreaks of an occasional minor squabble, primarily due
to innocent misunderstandings. However, Captain, the recently,
geometrically increasing, disturbances seemed to be mysteriously
brought on by an unseen force, or outside agent. Do you have

some idea as to what might have brought the insanity of violence
about, and are you at liberty to tell us? Because if you can give
us some idea of the nature of what caused the violence, we will
then be better equipped to repair the damage done."

Kirk sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
His lips pursed, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, as he very
carefully measured the wording of his answer. "Your request is
certainly a reasonable one however, the cause of the trouble on
Samara, at the moment, `technically' also falls under the
category of classified information."

Kirk paused, shook his head and sighed, "All I can tell you is
that the cause of the aberrant behavior has been neutralized."

Kirk then leaned forward in his chair and continued, "Because
you've all been through a difficult ordeal, we won't insist that
you help us. If need be, we will send a fresh team of qualified
sociologists to help with the situation down on Samara. I'm
offering you the opportunity to help out, if you feel up to it.
Starfleet could use your assistance and expertise."

Aaron sat quietly for a moment looking down at his folded hands,
then responded in a manner he hoped would concur with the
feelings of the rest of his group. "Well Captain Not being able
to interfere, we didn't react to the disturbance as being an
abnormal threat at first. When we finally did become concerned,
we found ourselves ensnared, and were thrown into their prison.
However, of course we'll agree to return to assist the Archon
anyway we can."

Kirk chuckled. "Thank you. Prepare yourselves to be beamed down
to Samara and report to the transporter room within an hour."
Kirk then stood to indicate the completion of the meeting.

The sociology team filed quietly out of the conference room, and
headed for the transporter room where they anxiously waited to be
beamed back down to Samara.

Captain Kirk arrived in the transporter room. He walked toward
Aaron with an outstretched right hand. "Good luck, and thank you
again. I think you'll find your work cut out for you down there."

Aaron smiled and shook the Captain's hand then, joined his team
on the transporter platform.



-23-



"Once more unto the breach, dear friends," 
Shakespeare, King Henry V/III. i. 1 



The sociology team cautiously stepped out into the square in
front of the palace. What they saw around them looked like the
aftermath of a major skirmish.


Aaron was the first to speak. "When we were told we'd have our
work cut out for us." He then paused, shaking his head. "Where do
we begin?! Any suggestions?"

Dagan walked up beside Aaron, smiling and gently placed a
supportive hand onto Aaron's shoulder. "How about we begin from
the inside." Pointing toward the palace, he continued. "After
all, as far as we know, that's where this mess got started in the
first place."

Dagan stopped smiling. Then he posed a disturbing question, "With
the palace adviser now out of commission, who's in there running
the government?!"

Uneasy expressions spread over the faces of each member of the
team as Aaron proceeded to lead his group quickly up the stone
steps toward the main entry into the palace. Aaron slowed to a
stop as he approached the main palace door. Something didn't look
right. Then as he reached up to knock, Aaron discovered that door
had been left ajar. With a worried expression on his face, Aaron
cautiously pressed against the door, nudging it open. Peering
inside, Aaron saw no one in sight. So he motioned to his

waiting comrades and they all cautiously entered the palace.
Looking around them, they noticed that most of the wall torches
had been extinguished. Shattered pieces of furniture and torn
down wall tapestries lay scattered on the floor.

Aaron frowned and asked, "Dagan, did you even see Ben-Ami when
you were here last time?"

Then Dagan also frowned and shook his head. "No, I was let into
the palace by a guard who looked like he might have been on opium
anyway, then he led me to the audience chamber where I met with
that phony Scholar."

Aaron inhaled. "You're sure you didn't see Ben-Ami?"

Dagan nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Why what are you thinking?"

Aaron pursed his lips thoughtfully then responded deliberately,
"I think it's possible that what we are dealing with is a puppet
rule."

Dagan interjected, "You mean Ben-Ami was the puppet, and that
fake Scholar palace adviser was the puppet master?!"

Aaron smiled at Dagan. "Yes, I believe so." Aaron paused and
assumed a far away expression then continued, "Upon my initial
meeting with the Archon Sagi, my very first impression, and
confidential recommendation, was that his son Ben-Ami, needed
considerably more training before he would make a confident and
wise leader."

Dagan then interjected, "Then it was as a result of your
recommendation that the Archon Sagi agreed to having the man who
claimed to be a ChenAra Mountain Scholar as a tutor for his son."
Dagan squinted, appearing confused, then asked, "But the ChenAra
Mountain Scholars don't make house calls, or offer their
assistance without some paramount reason. Wouldn't you think then
that the Archon Sagi would have been just a little bit
suspicious?"

Aaron nodded, "Yes, the Archon Sagi was quite probably more than
just a little suspicious. However, you remember, Captain Kirk
vaguely intimated that the fake Scholar had some mysterious
method of controlling, or manipulating those around him"

Dagan concluded, "Then the fake Scholar would have used that
influence on the Archon to be assigned as a tutor for his son.
The Archon, knowing that the Scholars are both knowledgeable and
trustworthy, got sucked into the fake Scholar's snare, and..."

Nodding vigorously, Aaron completed the thought. "And then once
he began to suspect the Scholar, the Archon became incapacitated
and helpless to do anything whereupon the situation then
proceeded snowball."

Dagan raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in an expression of
near hopelessness.

Aaron placed a reassuring hand on Dagan's shoulder. "Without his
supposedly loyal palace adviser to advise him, Ben-Ami is
probably hiding somewhere within this palace. We've got to try
and find him and tell him that his father is going to be resuming
command, and the palace adviser has been relieved of his duties
here."

Dagan then turned to Aaron and asked, "Where do you suppose we
begin looking for a frightened junior Archon?"

Aaron frowned in a thoughtful expression, and quietly considered
the question, thinking, `If I were a recently dethroned, and
frightened young Archon, where would I be right now?'

Aaron then turned to his anxiously waiting group and suggested.
"Let's head for the main audience chamber first, to see if
Ben-Ami is there."

Dagan smiled slyly. "The criminal always returns to the scene of
the crime!?"

Then as they made their way toward the audience chamber, Aaron
looked at Dagan, and, with a serious expression, remarked, "We
don't really know anything with absolute certainty about what
happened here Dagan."

Aaron paused and sighed, then continued, "My theory that it was
the fake Scholar who was the one in control, was based on the
sparse information which Captain Kirk gave us along with my own
personal first impression of the readiness of the Archon's son to
be placed in a position responsibility."

Dagan frowned, then more seriously, asked, "But you do believe
with reasonable certainty that this chaotic mess was not of
Ben-Ami's designed plan."

Aaron shook his head and responded, "I don't really believe that
this mess was planned, as in being carefully thought through, by
anyone."

Elevating his eyebrows, Aaron concluded, "and until we're
authorized by Starfleet to obtain more detailed information
regarding the impostor Scholar, as to the degree and the nature
of his mysterious influence, I'm going to proceed with my initial
impressions of Ben-Ami, and presume that the young Archon was an
innocent and naively misguided pawn."

They then continued on down the corridor in silence.

Sighing heavily Dagan turned to Aaron and asked, "What do we do
when, and if we find the Archon's son?"

Aaron frowned looked sideways at Dagan then responded simply, "We
help him and this planet any way we can to get all of their lives
back to normal again."



*****

The removal of both Gershon Ravid and his medallion from Samara
immediately eliminated the "benefit" of the electromagnetic field
of influence, and Ben-Ami discovered that without this external
influence, the palace guards refused to treat him properly as
Archon Pro-Tem. Although frustrated by this blatant
insubordination, Ben-Ami recognized the fact that there had been
no formal transfer of power and, that although he was of age, he
was not yet prepared for the Archonship.

Now Ben-Ami paced anxiously in front of the throne-like seat
within the audience chamber and thought nervously, `Where could
be my Scholar adviser?! My training thus far has been to prepare
me for assuming the command of the Samaran people.' Sighing,
Ben-Ami then admitted in a frightened tone, "But I know not what
be the best course of action now!" Ben-Ami stopped his pacing
and, sat down heavily on his father's throne-like seat.

Since the suspiciously propitious arrival of Gershon Ravid, a
number of curious things had occurred. Ben-Ami now wondered why
he hadn't stopped to question these aberrations before. Releasing
a sigh of frustration, Ben-Ami frowned, and with an expression of
deep concentration, then began to mentally retrace each of the
strange occurrences he could recall in hopes of finding a
pattern, or clue as to what had led to the current state of
affairs.



*****

His first recollection was one of surprise at having a ChenAra
Mountain Scholar assigned to be his teacher. This was indeed an a
unique honor. Ben-Ami, having no reason to question his father's
judgment, began trusting the Scholar. Within a few days following
the mysterious Scholar's arrival his father suddenly became
deathly ill.

Ben-Ami shook his head in bewilderment as he then continued his
review. None of the palace physicians were able to diagnose the
cause of the illness and therefore arrive at a cure. Then, just
as suddenly, he found himself to be the Archon. Or at least, that
was how it seemed.

Ben-Ami's eyebrows furrowed. The Scholar palace advisor seemed to
have a mysterious command over all around him. Ben-Ami then
raised his eyebrows in sudden surprise as he now realized that
there had been a barely detectable mystical power subtly
controlling his own actions and thoughts!

Just then the door to the audience chamber opened and a group of
strangers entered. Ben-Ami turned, feeling frightened and
trapped, to face them. Before he could react, one of the
strangers spoke.

"Don't be afraid Ben-Ami. We're not here to hurt you." The
stranger's voice sounded reassuring and trustworthy.

Ben-Ami, now feeling somewhat reassured, then asked, "Who be
you?"

Security Chief Johnson smiled and bowed, then once again in a
supportive tone, spoke. "We have come here to help you and your
father."

Throughout the time during which his Scholar palace advisor had
been with him, Ben-Ami realized, that he had not wondered about
his father's condition, asked meekly, "My father be he well?"

Aaron stepped forward, smiled, and bowed slightly, then
responded. "Your father is feeling better and will be strong
enough to resume command soon."

Ben-Ami then asked his one remaining question, "Where be my
Scholar palace advisor?"

This was a question which required a careful response. They
couldn't come right out and say that the palace advisor had been
arrested because it might tarnish the Scholars' credibility in
the eyes of the Samaran people, and would also be in violation of
the Prime Directive.

So Aaron responded to Ben-Ami's question simply by saying that
the palace advisor's task had been completed. "We will be your
new teachers and advisers now."



-24-



"Veritatem dies aperit." 
("Time discovers truth.") 
from On Anger, by Lucius Annaeus Seneca 



Dressed once again in their indigenous garb, Kirk and Spock
beamed back down to Samara. Recalling Spock's warning regarding
the cloistered natured of the ChenAra Mountain Scholars, there
were just the two of them this time. Kirk did not want to risk
overwhelming them, and driving the Scholars even further into
silence by showing up with a contingent of armed security guards.

The majestic dusty mauve brown peaks of the ChenAra Mountains
curved around to the left 2.41 km away from their beam down
point, and extended on into the distance as far as the eye could
see. Nestled right next to the mountains was a village of
primitive huts. This was where the Scholars lived. There was no
sign of the inhabitants of the tiny village.

Kirk and Spock headed toward what appeared to be the central hut.
Inside the hut they could see three hooded figures. Spock
silently motioned to Kirk not to disturb them. But then Kirk
looked down at the copper mesh box containing the medallion. They
were there to discover the origin of the medallion. Respectfully,
Kirk uttered, with a tinge of urgency in his voice, "Excuse me,
may we please speak to you? It is a matter of some urgency."

The Scholar wearing a light gray robe, representing the eldest of
the group, turned, and silently acknowledged the two strangers'
presence. The other two Scholars, apparently of a lower standing,
then left the hut without speaking, or looking up. Once the
younger Scholars had gone, the elder Scholar quietly responded,
"Who be you, and of what do you wish to speak, Strangers?"

"We are friends of the Archon Arvid Sagi, do you know of him?"
The Scholar silently nodded, then Kirk continued, "I am James
Kirk, and we have come to return this medallion." Kirk indicated
the mesh box which Spock held, "we believe that it might belong
to you."

The elder Scholar then shook his head. "We own nothing save that
of our knowledge."

There seemed to be a distinct communication barrier between Kirk
and the elder Scholar. Fortunately, Spock also detected the
potential for a lengthy and unproductive verbal exchange, and
stepped forward. "If I may elucidate, sir?"

The Scholar nodded. "Please. Enter."

"Thank you." Kirk entered the hut. Spock followed, carrying the
mesh box containing the medallion.

"Sir," Spock approached the Scholar and held the mesh box out to
more easily be seen. "The etched inscriptions, seen here on the
medallion," Spock indicated the etchings then continued, "are
those used by the ChenAra Scholars representing Wisdom,
Knowledge, Truth, Guidance and Unity, are they not?"

The Scholar glanced at the etchings briefly and nodded `yes' then
looked at Spock. "These be the symbols used to represent the
teachings of Knowledge, Truth, Wisdom, Guidance, and Unity. May I
hold the medallion?"

Kirk leapt forward, placing his hand over the mesh box. "No,
please don't remove the medallion from the mesh box."

Both Spock and the Scholar were surprised by the sudden wave of
emotional energy produced by Kirk's warning. Spock stood silently
with eyebrow raised, as the Scholar looked first at Kirk with a
curious questioning expression, then turned to Spock.

Spock, once again proceeded to elaborate. "Sir, this medallion
seems to exude an extraordinary electromagnetic field which was
being abused by an untempered mind as a means of unnatural
behavioral control. We were able to remove the medallion from the
offending individual's possession, and bring it safely here to
you within the protection of this mesh box. We assumed that with
your knowledge and wisdom you would know of it's intended use, or
to whom it belongs."

The Scholar reached out for the mesh box silently requesting that
he be permitted to hold it. Receiving no additional objections
from Kirk, Spock then placed the encased medallion into the
Scholar's outstretched hands.

The Scholar closed his eyes, and held the mesh box gently in his
hands. A few moments later, he opened his eyes and returned the
mesh box to Spock. The Scholar first glanced down at the
medallion, then looked at Spock with an expression of concern and
regret. "Stranger, I am sorry. The medallion which you have
returned to us does not belong here."

Kirk, becoming impatient and frustrated with the Scholar's
mysterious circumlocution, asked, "What do you mean? I was under
the impression that--"

Spock calmly interjected, "Sir, if you cannot answer our
questions, then could you tell us where we might find our
answers?"

The Scholar nodded and simply responded, "To find your answers,
you must seek the knowledge of Time." After which he silently
nodded then turned and left the hut saying nothing more. Spock
and Kirk looked at each other, and exited the hut wondering about
the meaning of the Scholar's answer.



*****

Upon returning to the Enterprise, Kirk and Spock headed toward
the Bridge.

Kirk sat down heavily and pressed down the intercom button on the
arm of his command chair. "Kirk to Sickbay."

"Sickbay, McCoy here."

"Bones, how is the Archon doing?"

"Well, he's conscious now Jim. All he needs is a day or two's
rest."

"Is he well enough to be returned to Samara?"

"Jim, ! I know from first hand experience what he's been through.
I'd rather we kept him here under observation for a day or so."

"Bones, I know, I'm sorry. But the sooner we get this damned
medallion back to it's rightful owner the better. I want you to
assign a team of medics to beam down to Samara with the Archon.
We will be leaving orbit for Starbase 11 in 10 minutes. Kirk
out."

Doctor McCoy hand picked two of his best medics to return to
Samara with the Archon, then escorted the medical team and the
Archon to the transporter room.



*****

Within exactly 9 minutes and 59 seconds the Archon had been
safely transported back down to Samara and, the Enterprise was on
its way for Starbase 11.

Kirk swiveled his command chair around to face the communications
station. "Uhura, contact Starbase 11. Inform them we are en
route, the team of sociologists are unharmed, and have resumed
their observations of the Samaran cultural development. Oh, also
inform them that we've found Doctor Richard Mathias, their
`missing historian,' on Samara as they surmised, and that we have
him in custody. They will be receiving a full report regarding
the situation on Samara, just as soon as we get there."

The attractive, dark Communications Officer responded simply,
"Aye, sir," and with quiet efficiency, proceeded with her orders.

Kirk then sat back in his chair with a pensive expression on his
face. His elbows bent, resting on the arms of the chair, his
palms together, fingers laced and poised gently against his
mouth.

After a few minutes Kirk lowered his hands and turned back to the
communications station with an afterthought. "Uhura."

The dark eyed Communications Officer turning her head away from
her board, gazed at the Captain.

Kirk continued, "Please ask Starfleet to send us information
regarding the historical records Doctor Mathias was assigned to
collect, and, ask if he was assigned to research Samara's Past."

Uhura nodded, giving a brief verbal acknowledgment, "Aye," then
returned to her communications board.

Approximately forty-five minutes later, Uhura received a brief
communique from Starbase 11.

"Captain, a coded message has just come through subspace channels
from Commodore Mendez."

Kirk, having been preoccupied reviewing the events of the past
few days, was jarred out of his reverie, and back again into the
present. Then Kirk sat slightly forward in his command chair, his
eyebrows drawn together intently as he listened to relay the
message. "Let's hear it Lieutenant."

"To: Captain James T. Kirk, commanding officer, U.S.S.
Enterprise: "A security team will be standing by to assume
custody of Doctor Richard Mathias. Please report to my office for
instructions regarding your next assignment. "signed, Commodore
José I. Mendez, commanding officer, Starbase Eleven" Then not
having heard what he was listening for, Kirk turned toward the
communication station. "Lieutenant, wasn't there any mention of
the information I requested?"

"No, sir." Then Uhura smiled regretfully and returned to her
duties.

Another hour and 45 minutes went by before the Enterprise was due
to pull into orbit around Starbase 11. Kirk made use of that time
by brooding over the many, still unanswered questions involving
this assignment!



*****

Commodore José I. Mendez, commanding officer in charge of
Starbase 11, was a middle-aged Hispanic man of medium height and
build. He leaned forward in his antique, cushioned high-backed
desk chair onto his elbows. Resting his forearms on the desktop,
he placed his hands together, and gently laced his fingers.
Across from him sat a tall slender man in his late thirties, of
medium muscular build, who leaned comfortably against the back of
his chair, with his right foot resting on his left knee, and his
hands poised in his lap.

They were involved in a discussion when the office door chime
signaled. Commodore Mendez raised his left hand in a gesture to
indicate a temporary cessation of their conversation, then stood,
and in a full deep rich toned voice, acknowledged the door chime.
"Enter."

Captain James T. Kirk entered, and walked purposefully toward the
desk, moving with the confidence of one accustomed to being in
command of any situation.

Mendez's extended his right hand. "It's good to see you again,
Jim."

With a genuine smile, Kirk extended his hand to accept the
commodore's outstretched hand. "Hello, José. It's been a while,
hasn't it?"

Then with a light sweep of his left hand Commodore Mendez
proceeded to introduce his other guest. "May I present Doctor
William Benson?"

Now also standing up, Doctor Benson nodded in Kirk's direction
with a congenial smile.

Concluding the introductions, Commodore Mendez indicated Jim Kirk
with a gesture of his hand. "And this is Captain James T. Kirk,
of the starship Enterprise."

Kirk shook Doctor Benson's hand, and nodded respectfully. "It's a
pleasure to meet you, sir." Kirk turned smoothly to face
Commodore Mendez who motioned toward the two vacant chairs.
"Please, be seated."

Once the captain and Doctor Benson were seated, Commodore Mendez
resumed his own seat and continued speaking to Kirk. "I received
your subspace message, and I felt it would be best to speak to
you here in the privacy of my office."

The commodore paused briefly then proceeded to explain. "Doctor
Benson was involved with, and served as supervisor for, a top
secret project known as Project Memory Alpha. The purpose behind
organizing Project Memory Alpha was, of course, to expedite the
restoration of Memory Alpha's destroyed memory banks."

Then Kirk held a hand up politely interrupting the commodore in a
slightly impatient, edgy tone. "Yes, sir. It was the Enterprise
which encountered the mental energy beings from the former star
system of Zetar. We had painful experience of helplessly
observing the devastating effect these beings had on the computer
complex of Memory Alpha."

The commodore waited understandingly for Kirk to finish before
completing what he had to say. "Yes, and we are still recovering
from the incredible loss of historical and scientific data."

"Sir, about the information I requested regarding Doctor Mathias'
assigned research." Kirk interrupted, once more with a still
respectful, but increasingly impatient tone.

"Yes, Captain, I coming to that. Project Memory Alpha was
stationed on the planet code named Gateway...commonly known as
4523 Orionis Six. I believe you are also personally familiar with
that particular sector, aren't you, Jim?"

Kirk sat up straight in his chair, suddenly becoming extremely
uncomfortable, and responded in tight voice, "Yes, sir. I am
familiar with that particular sector, and intimately familiar
with--"

"The Guardian of Forever," Commodore Mendez, nodding, interrupted
Kirk, "a time portal through which anyone may view or visit a
past time in history. Now I think you can understand why I
couldn't take the risk of sending the information you requested
via subspace channels."

Commodore Mendez paused again, his facial expression became
fatally serious as he continued, "You see Captain, Doctor Richard
Mathias, whom you found on Samara, was also involved with Project
Memory Alpha."



-25-



"Hard are those questions; answer harder still." 
from Night Thoughts, by Young 



Captain Kirk slid forward on his seat, and his face turned a pale
shade of gray. "Sir, when we found Doctor Mathias, he had in his
possession an object which he admitted to have found on Samara
during an historical archaeological expedition."

All this while Doctor Benson had remained silent. He had an
uneasy feeling, recalling first, Doctor Mathias' enthusiastic
response to young Adam McNeil's preposterous suggestion of going
forward through time, and then remembering later the conversation
between Doctor Mathias and Doctor Joletta Pierce regarding the
risks of time travel.

"Captain Kirk, are you thinking that Doctor Mathias might have
found this `object' while he was involved with the Project Memory
Alpha?"

Kirk turned in his seat to face Doctor Benson. "Doctor Benson,
was Doctor Mathias officially assigned to research the Past
history of Samara while involved with Project Memory Alpha?"

Doctor Benson sat quietly for a moment. Richard Mathias had, in
fact been assigned to research, and retrieve missing historical
records on Samara's past from the Guardian of Forever. Doctor
Benson sighed, then responded, "Yes, Captain, Doctor Mathias was
assigned to collect and record historical records of Samara's
past, however he had not been given permission to go back through
time. None of us had the authority, or had been given permission
to make use of the Guardian of Forever, accept as a means of
collect

ing lost historical information."

Kirk, not yet satisfied asked, "Could Doctor Mathias have
secretly made a trip into Samara's past through the Guardian?"

Doctor Benson uncrossed his legs, planting his feet both on the
floor, and took on a physical posture that showed distress.
"Captain it's unlikely that any of the Project Memory Alpha team
members could have gone through the Guardian of Forever into
another time. You see, we were each assigned to work with another
project team member, and there was always a security guard on
duty."

Kirk's lips pursed slightly. "I see. So you're saying that each
time Doctor Mathias was recording his assigned historical
information from the Guardian, he had another Project member with
him, and there was a security guard present to keep an eye on
them both?"

Doctor Benson nodded silently. Then Kirk continued speaking.

"Who was Doctor Mathias' assigned research team member?"

Doctor Benson thought for a moment then answered, "Doctor
Mathias' research partner was a young new historian, Adam McNeil,
who is a reliable, and trustworthy young man with great promise."

Then Kirk, shaking his head forcefully inquired, "Then are you
saying that Doctor Mathias was never, even for a moment, left
alone with the Guardian?"

Doctor Benson raised his eyebrows, and took in a deep breath, and
tried to think whether there had been any deviations from the
agreed procedure logged by their security guards.

Each of the historians involved with the Project Memory Alpha
agreed to choose a partner with whom to work. This agreement was
made to keep each of them from succumbing to the temptation of
visiting a particularly interesting past, as well as to have
another living, breathing, flesh and blood person to keep them
company.

Obviously distressed, Doctor Benson responded, "Captain, without
my reviewing each of the logged entries made by the security
guards posted, as far as I know, I'm fairly certain that Doctor
Mathias was never left alone while recording historical data from
the Guardian. At least, not so that he could"

Kirk interrupted, and eyed Doctor Benson, finishing the sentence
with a cat like, stalking posture. "At least not so that he could
ask the Guardian to zero in on a particular past time and then
quietly jump through?"

Commodore Mendez decided that this would be an appropriate time
for him to intervene. "Gentlemen."

Kirk and Doctor Benson turned quietly around, as the Commodore
then continued.

"Perhaps, Doctor Benson, it would help clear up this matter one
way, or the other, if you could secure, and carefully examine all
the entries logged by the Project assigned security guards."

Doctor Benson quietly nodded in agreement, stood up, excused
himself, then left the office.

"Captain Kirk, this medallion you found in Doctor Mathias'
possession, you said in your log entry that you believed it to be
of Samaran origin?"

Kirk nodded and responded, "Yes, sir. Upon bringing the medallion
aboard, my Science Office performed a detailed analysis on the
medallion. According to his analysis"

Commodore Mendez held up his hand to briefly interrupt, "Captain,
is there more to this archaeological artifact than was in your
last report?"

With a sigh Kirk continued, "Yes, sir, I too felt it would be
best not to transmit everything we knew about the medallion via
subspace channels."

Commodore Mendez sat with an expression of anticipation as Kirk
continued.

"When we first arrived in orbit around Samara, we detected an
unusual electromagnetic anomaly on the ship's sensors. In the
process of discovering the whereabouts and status of the
Federation sociology team assigned to Samara, we located the
source of the anomaly."

The Commodore concluded, "The medallion?"

"Yes, sir, and my Science Officer, Mister Spock identified the
etchings on the medallion as closely resembling symbols used by
ChenAra Mountain Scholars on Samara."

"Then Captain, do I understand to you to be saying that the
medallion belongs to the ChenAra Mountain Scholars?"

Kirk let out a heavy sigh and, with a shrug responded, "Well,
sir, yes, and no."


Commodore Mendez eyed Kirk with a quizzical expression.

"Mister Spock's analysis of the medallion revealed it to be of a
more advanced technology than that of the currently known Samaran
technological development. However, I decided to beam back down
to Samara with the medallion to speak with one of the Scholar's
on the chance that they might know to whom the medallion
belonged."

"I see, and what was the result of your confrontation with the
Scholars?" Commodore Mendez asked in a slightly suspicious tone.

"The Scholar we spoke to denied ownership of the medallion, and
told us `that to find our answer, we must seek the knowledge of
time.'" Kirk lifted both of his hands palms up, his eyebrows
raised, in an expression of total bewilderment.

Commodore Mendez sat back in his chair, with his left hand
thoughtfully resting against his lips. Then, lowering his hands
to rest in his lap, he slowly repeated the Scholar's riddle to
himself. "To find your answer, you must seek the knowledge of
time." The Commodore froze, his face suddenly fell as he realized
the implications. Then after what must have seemed like an
eternity, the Commodore sat erect in his chair, placed his hands
together on top of the desk. His expression became grimly
serious.

"Captain, I fear that your earlier conjecture regarding how
Doctor Mathias may have come into possession of the medallion
may, unfortunately, have some bearing in fact. Unless Doctor
Benson is unable to find log entries to refute that supposition,
it appears as if Doctor Mathias has managed to retrieve the
medallion from another time."

Kirk, who was now frozen to his seat, looked at Commodore Mendez
with an expression of serious recognition. "Commodore." But
before he could say any more the door chime sounded.

"Enter," the Commodore crisply ordered.

Doctor Benson entered the room carrying the hard copy of what
appeared to be a log entry, and it became immediately evident
that he had interrupted something. Commodore Mendez and Captain
Kirk were both looking at him in an accusing manner. He stopped
and asked, "I'm sorry Commodore, have I interrupted something?"

The Commodore's expression then took on a more congenial
expression. "No, of course not. Please come in, and sit down."

Doctor Benson walked over to the desk, and handed the security
officer's report to the Commodore then moved to a vacant chair
beside Captain Kirk's, and sat down.

Pointing to the log entry, now being skimmed by Commodore Mendez,
Kirk looked anxiously in Doctor Benson's direction and asked,
"What have you found?"

Doctor Benson glanced at the suspicious log entry then responded,
"The log entry was taken during a shift when Doctor Mathias and
Adam McNeil were working at the Guardian." Doctor Benson paused,
then pointing toward the entry, continued, "The security guard
entered, that Adam McNeil signed out on a break leaving Doctor
Mathias working alone at the Guardian." Then Doctor Benson looked
up to once again, meeting the hard, accusing glares of Commodore
Mendez and Captain Kirk.

Captain Kirk was the first to break the hard silence. Glaring
unyieldingly at Benson, he asked in a carefully monitored tone of
voice. "Doctor Benson, could Doctor Mathias have gone back into
time through the Guardian during the time he was left alone?"

There was a brief silence, lasting a lifetime, before Doctor
Benson responded, "It's unlikely that Doctor Mathias would have"

Kirk abruptly interrupted Doctor Benson, asking sharply, "Is is
possible?!"

Doctor Benson winced, partly from the emotional tone of the
question, and partly because it was conceivably possible that his
good friend had made use of the Guardian of Forever for an
unscheduled, and unauthorized venture into another time. Doctor
Benson sat up in his chair, sighed, then answered reluctantly,
"Yes, Captain, if the security guard's attention were diverted
away from the area surrounding the Guardian for long enough, it
is remotely possible that Doctor Mathias could have taken illicit
advantage of the time, while left alone and unobserved, to surreptitiously go
through the Guardian to visit another time."

Doctor Benson paused, and before Kirk could respond, added,
"However, Captain, all of the Project Memory Alpha historians
chosen were carefully screened. I refuse to believe that Doctor
Mathias would commit such an egregious offense."

Kirk leaned back in his chair, his fist resting at his lower lip.

Commodore Mendez, who had thus far been listening to the verbal
exchange, reached into the top drawer of his desk and brought out
a hard copy of a Project report, submitted by Doctor William
Benson, which had appended to it a note of personal concern. He
picked up the letter and began perusing its contents studiously.

Kirk and Benson's discussion came to a sudden halt as they both
turned, and glanced curiously at the document held in the
Commodore's hand.

The Commodore slowly set the document down, and scrutinized Kirk
and Benson with the expression of a disappointed instructor. He
then shifted his focus of attention toward Doctor Benson.
Speaking slowly and deliberately, he once again picked up the
letter. "Doctor Benson, I have, a copy of a status report to
which you've appended a special note of concern regarding Doctor
Mathias and a potentially disruptive emotional attitude. I have
also read a copy of the Psych./Med. report submitted by the
Project Memory Alp

ha appointed physician, confirming and supporting your concern."

Kirk respectfully requested permission to speak, however the
Commodore sternly shook his head, then continued speaking,
"Doctor Benson, I believe that there is sufficient written
testimony, with the two reports, plus the security guard's entry,
for me to reach a reasonable conclusion regarding the probability
of illicit usage of the Guardian of Forever on behalf of Doctor
Richard Mathias. I therefore will be remanding Doctor Mathias
over for further interrogation, and psychiatric evaluation. I
hardily recommend th

at you two Gentlemen find a reasonable way of returning the
medallion to its proper time and place."

Having finished speaking, Commodore Mendez stood up, thus,
bringing an end to the private conference. As Kirk and Benson
stood, and before leaving, Kirk asked, "Sir, do we have your
permission to go to Gateway?"

The commodore raised an eyebrow and then responded, "Yes,
Captain, you have my permission, and I would like for Doctor
Benson to go to Gateway with you to act as historical consultant.
That will be all Gentlemen. Please return the medallion to where
it belongs." The commodore resumed his seat as Kirk and Doctor
Benson left the office.



-26-



"Admissions are mostly made by those who do not know their importance." 
from Scintil Jurism, by Charles John Darling 



Upon leaving Commodore Mendez's office, the two men walked along
quietly each involved with his own private thoughts and concerns.
Then, as they continued walking down the corridor, Kirk noticed a
strikingly attractive young woman down the corridor a ways, and
for a brief moment wished he didn't have this other pressing
problem to contend with.

He thought he might have enjoyed getting to know her. She
appeared to be in her mid to late thirties, and had thick, long
dark wavy red hair which was loosely piled up onto her head. She
was leaning up against a wall talking and laughing with some
locally stationed Starbase 11 personnel.

Doctor Benson walked along, his eyes absently gazing down at the
deck, as he thought about how his good friend may have actually
betrayed everything he stood for by abusing the honor and the
privilege of recording past history through the Guardian of
Forever.

"Will Hello!" The attractive young, red haired woman called out.
Getting no response the first time, she, undauntedly, tried
again. "William? Will Benson Long time no see!"

Doctor Benson heard the second attempt through the fog of his
concerned thoughts, and looked up. It took a few minutes for his
eyes to send a recognition signal to his brain as to who was
attempting to speak to him. He waved, smiled, and called back,
"Doctor Pierce. Hello."

Kirk and Benson had managed to arrive within normal speaking
distance of the young woman within a few minutes. Kirk noticed
that she had beautiful clear emerald green eyes, and a
disarmingly attractive smile.

"Doctor Pierce, this is Captain James T. Kirk of the starship
Enterprise." Will Benson continued with his introductions, "and
this is Doctor Joletta Pierce."

It was anybody's guess as to whether Kirk heard. With a
mesmerized expression, Kirk reached out his hand to accept the
delicate, yet self reliant hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you
Doctor Pierce."

Doctor Joletta Pierce nodded and smiled. "It's a pleasure and an
honor to meet you Captain Kirk, and please, call me Joletta."

"Thank you." Feeling somewhat awkward, Kirk then added, "Please
call me Jim."

"All right, Jim." Joletta then gracefully turned her attention
towards her Project colleague. "So, Will, what brings you to this
neck of the woods?"

Will, appearing slightly flustered, smiled, then his gaze met
Joletta's clear emerald green eyes. "I was about to ask you the
same question Joletta."

Joletta's lips turned up slightly at the corners of her,
pleasantly shaped mouth. "Well..." Pausing, Joletta was uncertain
as to whether Captain Kirk had been told anything about Project
Memory Alpha, so as she continued, she carefully made no
reference to the Project. "Since you and I last saw each other,
I've been busy here on Starbase 11 exchanging notes with the
resident physician regarding the psychological effects of deep
space assignments on civilian personnel."

"Well I'm glad you're here, whatever the reason." Then Will
Benson's expression became uncomfortably serious as he motioned
to a nearby conference room, and suggested, "Let's go in here and
talk."

Joletta's expression also turned serious. Concerned she reached
out and, gently placing a hand on Will's arm, asked, "Is anything
wrong?"

Captain Kirk and Doctor Pierce followed Doctor Benson into the
empty conference room where the three of them sat down. Once they
had the privacy, Doctor Benson looked at Kirk. "Joletta was the
Psych.Med officer assigned during my stint as Project Memory
Alpha supervisor."

Joletta quietly raised a delicate eyebrow. Then Benson turned, a
serious expression on his face, and looked at her. "Joletta, we
suspect that Doctor Mathias may have made illicit use of the
Guardian of Forever while involved with Project Memory Alpha. We
have three written pieces of evidence which point toward that
probability."

Joletta's well formed mouth pursed. She then inquired, "Will, to
what `written pieces of evidence' are you referring?"

"Commodore Mendez has hard-copies of both our reports regarding
Mathias' obsession with time travel, and I found a potentially
incriminating log entry submitted by the security guards who were
on duty on the stardate in question. The security guard,
Lieutenant Harrison signed out Adam McNeil on a coffee break
leaving Mathias alone with the Guardian." Will Benson sat back in
his chair, his hands out, palms up, in a posture of surrender.

Joletta's eyebrows rose, as she leaned forward. "I remember
submitting my report regarding Mathias to you. Rosanna Davidson
also came to me with her concerns about Mathias." Joletta avidly
shook her head. "No Will, in my professional opinion, Doctor
Mathias is merely suffering from an acute reaction to getting
old, and facing retirement, nothing more." Sitting back in her
chair, Joletta folded her arms defiantly across her modestly
proportioned chest.

Then Joletta's well formed eyebrows drew together in a concerned
expression. "Will, is there any evidence other than the three
reports, which might also point toward the probability of what
Mathias' is being accused of?"

Will looked in Kirk's direction. Joletta's concerned gaze then
also turned toward the handsome starship captain.

Kirk leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms purposefully
on the table in front of him, then began speaking a serious tone
of voice.

"I'd like to answer your question by filling you in on some basic
background information if I may."

Joletta frowned slightly and silently nodded her consent, then
Kirk proceeded with his background information.

"When we arrived in orbit around Samara, the ship's sensors
detected an unusual, and initially unexplainable, electromagnetic
anomaly, the epicenter of which was located within the main
palace building."

Kirk paused. Joletta shifted in her chair, her eyebrows, still
drawn together as Kirk continued. "We found Doctor Mathias in the
capitol building wearing an unusual medallion which we discovered
was the source of the Electromagnetic anomaly, and then during
his interrogation aboard my ship, he said that he had come into
possession of the medallion during an historical archaeological
expedition. Upon further analysis of the medallion, my Science
Officer discovered it to have been constructed by a far more
advanced technology than what currently exists on Samara."

Kirk finished speaking and sat back.

Lifting her right hand, she raised the index finger, and pointing
upwards in a gesture of assured defiance looked at Will Benson
vehemently reavowing. "Will, I still believe Richard Mathias to
merely be suffering from an acute form of Late Age Syndrome,"
Joletta opened the palm of her extended hand, "and besides, the
security guards on duty would have seen him, and prevented his
elicit use of the Guardian."

Kirk sat in his chair, quietly grinning to himself. He then
leaned forward in his seat, his arms folded and resting on the
conference room table, and with the subtle grin still on his
lips, commented, "I agree that if the security guards on duty had
seen Mathias make a suspicious move toward the Guardian, they
would have stopped him." Kirk paused, leaned back in his chair
again, and made a brief admiring visual scan of Joletta Pierce
from her waist on up.

Joletta raised a delicately formed eyebrow, folding both her
arms, once again over her chest. "Jim, I feel that there's more
to what your saying than what you've already said."

Kirk then smiled. "Yes, there is more." He then leaned forward
again, and rested on his arms. Looking directly into Joletta's
emerald green eyes, Kirk then proceeded with caution. "Your
supposition, is correct, unless, the security guards had been
somehow distracted."

Joletta unfolded her arms, and leaned forward with cat like
grace, her emerald green eyes blazed. "Captain, you appear to
have a genuine talent for circumventing your point. Just what,
exactly, is your point?"

Kirk was in love, again. This woman was someone he'd definitely
have to get to know better. Which would have to wait until this
other little matter, of returning the medallion to where it
belonged, had been taken care of. "I'm assuming, that the
security guards on duty, were, normal human males?"

Kirk paused as Joletta opened her mouth to retort. Then, deciding
to hear him out, Joletta quickly closed her mouth, and silently
motioned for him to continue. She would, after Kirk had had his
say, then have her chance to speak.

Kirk nodded, then continued speaking, "Normal human males, even
highly trained security guards, who are assigned to lonely,
infrequently visited, posts, such as Gateway, could, conceivably
be, momentarily distracted by, let's say, someone, such as
yourself, coming over, quite innocently, to say hello, and, maybe
stopping long enough to ask how things are going."

The smile left Kirk's lips as his expression then became serious.
"Hypothetically, during this time, Doctor Mathias could have gone
through the Guardian into another time, and 20 minutes later,
have returned to the present without anyone knowing about it."

Kirk, having finished, then sat back hoping that what he'd said
gave Joletta something to think about. Then Kirk thought to
himself, if anyone could have distracted the security guards, it
was this lady.

Joletta recognized that she had just been accused, in the
Captain's own annoying, roundabout way, of having distracted the
security guards on duty, thus giving Mathias the open, and
unobserved opportunity to go through the Guardian of Forever into
another time. Was she guilty of being an unknowing accomplice?

Will Benson leaned forward, and reached out to gently touch
Joletta's hands, now lying limp on top of the table. "Joletta,
what we're trying to do here is to ascertain whether Richard
Mathias did have the opportunity to abuse his scientific
privileges. So, if you could help us in anyway--"

Joletta sat quietly, and tried to remember exactly what happened,
and what part, if any she might have played in all this. The date
suspected to have been when Mathias took his alleged journey back
through time was now several weeks passed. It was a difficult
fete for most people to remember what happened even a couple of
days ago, especially when at the time there didn't seem to be
anything really significant to remember.

As Joletta concentrated on the day in question she recalled that
prior to her visit with Rosanna Davidson, she had been carrying
on a casual conversation with the security guards, who had both
been given their first deep space post assignment. They were both
a little lonely, and in need of "down home" conversation.
Gateway, although being a scientifically exciting place to be,
didn't offer much in the way of excitement for non scientific
personnel. Then Joletta squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, and

asked herself. How long did I occupying the security guard's
attention? It didn't seem, at the time to have been for much more
than five or ten minutes, however, I suppose I could have
occupied as much as 20 minutes, or so. Joletta's heart started
beating fast as she covered her eyes with the palm of her right
hand. Then lowering her hand again, she looked at the two men who
were now anxiously watching her. Joletta took a deep breath, then
her expression became grim as she then proceeded to reveal the
uncomfortable conclusions of her recollection.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid I have some good news, and some bad news."

She paused briefly to observe the reactions. Will Benson sighed,
and leaned forward onto his elbow, placing a hand on his
forehead, and Captain Kirk leaned back hard against his seat with
his arms folded across his well proportioned chest, and glared at
her through cold hazel eyes.

She decided it wasn't going to get any easier so then she
continued, "The good news, is that I think that the medallion
which Mathias came into possession of, probably did come from
another time."

But before she could get on with the bad news, Kirk slammed his
fist against the table. "Joletta, Doctor Pierce, are saying that
you, or someone you know, was responsible for diverting the
security guard's attention long enough"

Then Joletta interrupted, "Yes, Captain. I'm sorry, but I believe
that I may have been the one"

"You?!" Kirk exclaimed.

At this, Will Benson looked over at Joletta, not entirely
surprised. Joletta Pierce was the sort of person who tried to
make people feel relaxed, and at ease with their surroundings. So
it wasn't at all surprising that she would interact with the
security guards with the same relaxed friendliness with which she
did everyone else.

Joletta attempted to reduce the tension of this undeniably
serious situation by trying to calmly finish explaining her side
of the story. "Captain Kirk, my job as Project assigned
Psych./Med. was to try to maintain the mental and physical
well-being of everyone working there, which included two brand
new, lonely security guards. That's the `bad news'. As I started
to say before, I'm afraid it may have been I who distracted the
security guard's attention, perhaps for a long enough period of
time that Doctor

Mathias could have slipped into another time and back again
without anyone noticing. And I feel completely responsible for
this whole mess. I'm sorry."

Captain Kirk was endeared, and mildly subdued by this heart
wrenching confession. After all, the solution to this whole mess
had been given to him by the aged Scholar on Samara. `To find
your answer, you must seek the knowledge of time'. Kirk looked at
Will Benson, then stood up, and in a commanding tone announced,
"We're off to Gateway."

Will Benson and Joletta Pierce stood, and as they were leaving
the room Kirk turned to Joletta Pierce and with a forgiving smile
said, "I hope to have an opportunity, under less stressful
circumstances, to get to know you better Doctor Joletta Pierce."
Then he reached out for her hand.

Joletta smiled, and accepted Kirk's hand. "Well, I'll probably
still be here on Starbase 11 when you return with Will. I've been
unofficially assigned to assist with Doctor Mathias' psychiatric
evaluation."

Kirk released the soft hand. "Then, may I look forward to the
pleasure of seeing you again?"

Joletta smiled warmly, and nodded. "Yes, Jim I'll would like
that."

The two men then headed purposefully toward the transporter room.



-27-



"Nothing now is left but a majestic memory." 
from Three Friends of Mine, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 



The shimmering transporter effect materialized Captain Kirk and
Will Benson aboard the Enterprise within seconds. Kirk stepped
down off the platform ahead of Doctor Benson, then turned and
proudly stated, "Welcome aboard the Enterprise Doctor."

Will Benson smiled and looked around the room, as he stepped
down. "Thank you Captain. I will have to confess that I've never
had the honor of being aboard a Constitution class starship
before. Even this room looks large."

Kirk laughed then ushered Will Benson toward the door. "I'll have
someone show you to your quarters Doctor, and perhaps a little
later I can give you a tour of the ship."

Will Benson smiled. "Thank you, that would be fine Captain."

"Good. While you get yourself settled, I'll get us started on our
way to our destination. Ensign," Kirk then flagged down a passing
crewman.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Would you show Doctor Benson to the guest quarters please."

"Yes, sir. This way Doctor." As Will Benson and the crewman
disappeared down the corridor, Kirk turned and headed for the
Bridge.



*****

On the Bridge, Spock, who had been in temporary command, was
apprised of the situation, and ordered the helm to set the
coordinates for sector 90.4. Only a select few crew members on
board the Enterprise knew exactly where they were going, and so
there was a contained sense of excitement among those who knew.

As Kirk stepped out of the turbolift, Spock silently rose from
the command chair, and returned to his post at the Science
station. Kirk walked over to the vacated command chair and eased
into it.

"Helm, prepare to leave orbit."

Swiveling around to face Spock, Kirk asked, rhetorically, "Mister
Spock, may I assume that you've ordered the coordinates properly
set for our very special destination?" Then, without waiting for
a response, Kirk turned around again to face the star lit Bridge
screen, and ordered, "Helm, take us out of orbit, and proceed on
course for our next destination."

"Aye, sir," came an almost stereophonic response from the helm,
then the Enterprise pulled majestically out of its orbit around
Starbase 11, and headed toward the area of space where time
began.

Kirk smiling to himself, noticed through his peripheral vision
that Spock was looking in his direction, and had one of those
indecipherable Vulcan expressions on his face. So Kirk turned
around, his eyebrows raised, and with an innocent looking smile
on his face, asked, "Spock? Is something bothering you?"

Spock's left eyebrow swept upward then descended as his face took
on its familiar serious demeanor. "Yes, Captain. It has
frequently puzzled me as to why you would issue an order, then
ask if it has been carried out as per your instructions. Not only
is that behavior illogical, I find it mildly insulting that you"

Kirk's grinning mouth opened in mock surprise. "You, Mister
Spock? An emotional response?" He said teasingly.

It was obvious that Spock did not find this at all amusing, as he
continued, "Captain, it is conceivable that you might need to
reaffirm the carrying out of your orders with lesser experienced
personnel"

Doctor McCoy had stepped onto the Bridge in time to hear Spock's
last statement, and interjected, "You mean the lesser experienced
human personnel, don't you Mister Spock? You don't want us humans
to start thinking that Vulcans are less than perfect, now would
you?"

Before Spock had time to respond to McCoy, Kirk intervened
calling a truce. "Gentlemen. I'm going to be needing you both in
this mission."

"Mister Spock, schedule a closed briefing for 1600 hours. Bones,
I'd like for you to be there too. Spock, you take the conn. Now
if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a tour of the ship to
conduct."

Kirk left the Bridge, and Spock stepped down from the Science
station to assume the conn. As Kirk was walking toward the
turbolift, he could hear McCoy continuing his ever futile attempt
at getting a rise out of the never faltering Mister Spock.
"Spock, now admit it, you're no more perfect than the rest of us,
poor fallible humans!"

Spock's response was lost as the turbolift door mercifully slid
closed with a whoosh. Kirk crisply ordered, "Deck D, Level 4,"
then the turbolift immediately began its smooth, rapid transit
toward the level of the ship which contained the V.I.P. guest
quarters. Moments later the turbolift hissed to a gentle stop,
the door whooshed open, and Kirk stepped out.

Kirk ambled down the corridor, stopping in front of the guest
quarters assigned to Doctor Benson. Pushing the door buzzer, Kirk
heard a distant sounding "Come in," from somewhere within the
cabin. The door, being voice activated, then opened. Kirk entered
and looked around the room. Doctor Benson came from the work area
of his spacious stateroom, and, in a sweeping gesture of the
room, exclaimed, "Well Captain, I wish I had quarters this nice
back home."

Kirk smiled, "I'm glad you like your quarters Doctor." Then more
seriously, "I've scheduled a closed briefing in the conference
room on this deck, for 1600 hours." Kirk's expression assumed a
less serious tenor as he added humorously, "that's 4:00 P.M.
civilian time." Then he continued, once again, in a more serious
tone, "I would like for you to attend, and bring the hard copies
of the three reports."

Will Benson had smiled at the reference to civilian time, and
responded, "Very well, Captain, I'll be there, with the copies of
Joletta's and my reports, and the security guard's log entry."

"Very good." Changing once again to less serious expression, Kirk
glanced down at his chronometer, then looked up and suggested,
"How about that tour of the ship I promised you earlier? We have
about an hour until the conference."

Will Benson nodded, "I would enjoy that Captain."

The two men left the stateroom, and headed toward the turbolift.



*****

The hour seemed to whiz by, and before Will Benson knew it, they
were in the turbolift heading for the conference room on deck D,
making only a brief stop at his stateroom to retrieve the
requested documents.

Spock, and Doctor McCoy both stood as the Captain and Doctor
Benson entered the conference room. Kirk motioned for everyone to
sit down. "Gentlemen, we have a little problem to contend with, a
medallion which has, with reasonable certainty, been identified
as having come from another time."

Doctor McCoy cocked an eyebrow, skeptically, and asked, "Jim, you
mean to tell me that gold plated, little"

But before McCoy could finish, Spock interjected, "Doctor McCoy,
first, the medallion is not gold plated. According metallurgic
analysis"

Captain Kirk, deciding not to allow this discussion to proceed
any further, interrupted sharply, "Gentlemen! Doctor Benson has
several reports in which there was mention of a personal concern
of a potentially disruptive attitude regarding Doctor Mathias."
Kirk then looked toward Will Benson. "You probably knew Doctor
Mathias better than anyone else involved with the Project Memory
Alpha team, am I correct?"

Will Benson nodded. "Yes, Captain, I was a student of his."
Benson paused, sighed, then continued, "At least I thought I knew
him well enough to have foreseen"

Kirk held up a hand to interrupt. "Yes, Doctor, I understand."

Then Doctor McCoy spoke up, "Doctor Benson, I read both the
reports regarding Doctor Mathias, and you each recommended that
if Mathias' disruptive attitude persisted, he was to be
prematurely dismissed from the Project."

Will Benson looked into Doctor McCoy's steel blue eyes. "Yes,
Doctor Pierce's observations indicated a need for concern,
however, she felt that Doctor Mathias was merely having
difficulty dealing with his impending retirement. Neither of us
felt it was serious enough to take immediate punitive action."

Kirk's eyebrows ascended. "Doctor, what we need to know now is,
in your opinion, would the confidential observations made by
Doctor Pierce, and yourself present probable cause to back up our
own suspicions?"

Benson, finding himself once again faced with the Captain's hard
stare, shook his head. "I don't know. Joletta, Doctor Pierce
wasn't absolutely certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that she, or
rather, that the security guards had been, as you put it,
`distracted' for a sufficient amount time"

Kirk then pointed out, "Doctor, once one has been granted
security clearance to be on Gateway it doesn't then take long to
approach the Guardian, request a particular period in history,
and then jump through. Especially, if the `time traveler', in
this case Mathias, had planned his little trip in advance."

Will Benson sat looking at the Captain wondering silently, how it
was that Kirk knew how long it took.

Either Kirk must have been psychic, or Benson's question must
somehow have made itself known, because Kirk then leaned forward
in a posture of confidentiality. "Each of us here at this private
meeting has had," Kirk paused and sighed, "the experience of
having gone through the Guardian of Forever into another time."

"But how is it that you were given permission?" Benson asked.

Kirk sat up, and nodded. "I know, the military are currently only
assigned to patrol that sector of space." Kirk paused briefly,
and his face took on an unusually serious expression as he
continued, "however the Enterprisewas the first Federation
starship to have discovered the Guardian."

Will Benson looked around at the men seated at the conference
room table. Spock's eyebrows descended into a serious expression,
coming together forming a capital V, as he sat stiffly in his
chair, with his arms folded across his chest. Doctor McCoy's
expression was also serious as he shifted uncomfortably in his
chair. Captain Kirk's eyebrows were drawn together, and his face
was hard with a grim expression. Each of them had an
unexplainable far away look in his eyes.



*****

Kirk's thoughts drifted back into the past as he recalled his
first experience with the Guardian of Forever.

The ship's sensor's detected an unusual time distortion emanating
from a dead planet in the sector we'd been assigned to patrol. I
placed the ship on alert, and ordered the helm to pull into
orbit.

As the ship approached orbital status we encountered a time-warp
emitted shock wave. I looked around the Bridge and noticed that
Mister Sulu had been roughly jolted from his seat at the Helm,
and lay unconscious on the deck. So I ordered Bones to the
Bridge.

As Bones was walking over to where Sulu lay stunned, the ship
encountered another shock wave. Bones tripped, injecting himself
with an overdose of cordrazine. Then in a drug induced frenzy, he
fled the Bridge and transported himself down to Gateway.

I beamed down with a landing party only minutes later. We then
fanned out to search every possible hiding place for McCoy. We
had just begun our search when there was an inhuman sounding
howl, as McCoy appeared suddenly from behind some rocks. He
darted out from his hiding place and ran with a drug induced
blind madness, straight for the center of the Guardian. Before
any of the landing party could catch up to him, McCoy had jumped
through the center of the Guardian and vanished.

Kirk sighed and glanced over toward McCoy.

It was then we discovered that the strange, roughly sculpted,
archway, which called itself the Guardian, was a gateway to time.
Apparently, by going through it's center, McCoy had somehow
changed our history. I realized that Spock and I had to go back
into time to find McCoy, and try, if we could, to correct the
damage to our history.



*****

McCoy sat uncomfortably back in his chair. McCoy's first memory
of being on Gateway was extremely fuzzy like a nightmare one
tries to forget.

McCoy shook his head sharply.

I only vaguely remember that there'd been a medical emergency and
that I'd been ordered to the Bridge. When I got there Mister Sulu
was lying on the deck unconscious. I started walking over to Sulu
with the medicom when the ship lurched, I tripped and fell. I
then heard a loud hissing sound.

McCoy's eyebrows drew together, beads of sweat beginning to form
on his creased brow as he continued.

I must have blacked out after giving myself that near lethal dose
of cordrazine. And then I think that's when all Hell broke loose.

McCoy's next memories of that incident were mixed with feelings
of disorientation, and almost a paranoid fear. McCoy then reached
up and wiped the sweat off his brow.

As the effects of the cordrazine eventually wore off, I didn't
know where I was nor how I got there but I knew I couldn't stay
where I was. My life was in a different time. I just hoped that
Jim and Spock would be looking for me.



*****

Spock found the human preoccupation with dwelling on past
occurrences to be totally illogical. To focus one's attention on
anything unrelated to the present, and its requirements was,
after all, a waste of mental energy.

Spock's expression became serious as he recalled that their
initial discovery of the Guardian's link with the flow of time
was, in Spock's assessment, potentially the most devastating
toward the continued existence of Starfleet and the United
Federation of Planets.

We discovered that the strange stone archway was a gateway into
the flow of time, and in passing through it's center, Doctor
McCoy had somehow managed to change their history. Everything we
knew, the Enterprise, and the Federation of Planets no longer
existed, and we were now stranded on the planet with the Guardian
of Forever.

The Guardian assured us that it was possible to correct the
damage done to our history. We ascertained the approximate time
in history which had been somehow affected by Doctor McCoy's
presence then Captain Kirk and I passed through the Guardian's
center, into the past.

Spock's eyebrows then came together into a serious expression.

Not knowing exactly when or how Doctor McCoy had inadvertently
changed our history meant that we did would be working blindly.

We had been there approximately three days when I managed to
discover that our hostess, Edith Keeler, had two possible
futures. But only one of those futures meant the correction of
our history. Upon further analysis I discovered that Edith Keeler
must die in order for the Federation to exist.

It turned out not to be a simple matter of informing the Captain
of my findings since by this time he had become quite enamored of
Miss Keeler.

Spock let out a carefully controlled sigh then drew his one
indulgence with daydreaming to its positive conclusion.

When it came time for Captain Kirk to make the crucial choice
which would effect the rest of our history, `The needs of the
many outweighed the needs of the few, or the one.' Our mission
into the past culminated successfully with our locating Doctor
McCoy, and, regretfully allowing Edith Keeler to die.



*****

Then they each became gradually aware of a distant, persistent
beeping sound, and a voice trying to get their attention. Captain
Kirk, who was the first to respond, snapped out of his revere,
reached over and pushed down the receive button on the intercom.
"Yes, Mister Sulu, what is it?"

"Sir, we've arrived at our destination."

"Thank you Mister Sulu, place the ship into standard orbit." Kirk
stood, and looked around the table. "Gentlemen, shall we go
return the medallion?" The four of them stood, and quietly left
the conference room.



-28-



"Hic locus est partes ubi se via findit in ambas." 
(Here is the place where the road divides into two parts.) 
from The Aneid, by Vergil 



The Enterprise slid into orbit around the planet Gateway. Sulu
shivered slightly as he sat up in the command chair. A strange
iridescent, silvery glow from the planet's white dwarf star shown
through the Bridge screen. He then turned toward the
communications station and ordered Uhura to contact the planet's
security station. Several minutes later Uhura announced, "Mister
Sulu, I have the Security Chief."

"Thank you, Uhura. Put him the on speaker."

"This is Gateway Security Station, Chief Security Officer Dewey
speaking. Please identify yourselves, and your purpose."

Sulu leaned forward, and speaking to the Gateway Security Chief
with an assumed authority responded, "This the U.S.S. Enterprise,
Lieutenant Sulu in temporary command. We're here on a top secret
mission authorized by Commodore José I. Mendez of Starbase
Eleven. We are requesting security clearance to beam down a
landing party of four."

There was a brief silence then the Security Officer responded,
"Yes, I've just now received authorization from Starbase 11. Your
landing party is cleared to beam down. The coordinates are"

"Thank you, we've got the coordinates. Enterprise out."



*****

Kirk, Spock, Doctor McCoy and Doctor Benson were waiting in the
transporter room for Mister Sulu's confirmation that they were
cleared to beam down. Spock, having already calculated the
coordinates for their beam down point, stood quietly at attention
by the transporter controls while Kirk paced back and forth in
front of the console, pounding his right fist anxiously into the
palm of his left hand. McCoy stood midway between the console and
the transporter, his hands clasped behind his back, and bounced
nervousl

y up and down onto his toes, glaring at the transporter as if it
were some horrible, noxious creature he wanted to keep his
distance from. Doctor Benson had planted himself next to the
transporter platform, on stage right. His eyebrows were furrowed
in a worried expression.

"Bridge to transporter room."

Kirk slammed down the intercom button. "Transporter room, Mister
Sulu, are we cleared?"

"Yes, Captain, the planet Chief Security Officer just gave the
security clearance."

Kirk smiled. "Thank you Mister Sulu. You watch the store while
we're gone."

"Aye, sir." Sulu, smiling inscrutably to himself, added, "Oh, and
Captain, don't let time get away from you." He could heard Kirk
chuckling softly over the intercom. "Good luck, Captain."

Kirk was still grimacing at Sulu's awful joke as he addressed the
assembled members of his landing party. "Well gentlemen, this is
it." Kirk then turned toward Spock, and in mock seriousness,
remarked, "Mister Spock, please don't forget to bring the
Medallion with you." Kirk then pivoted around, and with an impish
grin playing on his lips, ushered McCoy and Will Benson toward
the transporter platform.

Behind Kirk, Spock's right eyebrow had elevated indignantly.
Spock returned his attention toward the Transporter console and
calmly set the transporter for a one minute timed delay. Then he
reached over, gently picked up the mesh box within which the
medallion was safely contained, and, moving smoothly around the
console, mounted the transporter platform to await the timed
transporter activation.



*****

The transporter hummed and the room around them began to fade.
Moments later they were all standing on the familiar soft sand of
Gateway's surface. The surrounding atmosphere was as Kirk last
remembered. Although the current temperature was a mild 17.5 íC,
the air felt cold and dead.

A tall, muscularly handsome young man dressed in a security
officer's uniform came walking over to them. As Kirk watched the
man approaching, he mused to himself, `Why is it that they're
always built like brick houses?' He then recalled a recent, and
brief affaire de coeur with Tatiana Sinovia, `She certainly
wasn't built like a brick house.' (But that's another story!)

The officer stopped at attention before them, and introduced
himself in a confident manner, "Welcome to Gateway. I am Chief
Security Officer Dewey."

Kirk nodded. "I am Captain James T. Kirk in command of the U.S.S.
Enterprise, and this is my First Officer Commander Spock, my
Chief Medical Officer Doctor Leonard McCoy, and a specially
assigned historical consultant Doctor William Benson." Will
Benson and the Security Chief smiled at each other in a way which
indicated they'd met before. "Hello Gus, long time no see," Will
Benson said in strained flippant manner.

"Yes, Doctor Benson, hello again, sir." Chief Security Officer
Dewey was slightly uncomfortable, however he was glad to see a
familiar face.

Kirk interrupted gently, and with a sense of urgency, "Gentlemen,
we're not here on a pleasure tour." He then indicated the copper
mesh box being held firmly in Spock's hands.

The Security Chief smiled understandingly. "Yes, sir. I have been
informed of your mission here. Please follow me." He then
proceeded to usher the Enterprise landing party in the direction
of the Guardian.

The small Enterprise entourage quietly followed the brick house
Security Chief toward the Guardian of Forever. Kirk shivered as
he strode along managing to keep up a half pace behind and to the
left of the Security Chief. Spock walked second from the fore
solemnly holding the mesh box containing the Medallion close to
him. Doctor Benson was to his right, and Doctor McCoy reluctantly
trailed close behind to his left.

As Kirk walked along, he glanced back at the others. Spock's
manner of bearing was rigidly erect as if he were the honored
bearer of some ancient, and highly revered Vulcan relic. Amused,
Kirk smiled, then looked toward the rear of the little
procession. McCoy was shuffling along as if he were going to his
own funeral. Kirk shook his head, secretly commiserating with
McCoy's gloomy demeanor. Doctor Benson walked along looking about
him with an expression of one who was experiencing an
uncomfortable sense of deja vu. They were all quietly wondering
where and when the Guardian would say the Medallion belonged.

They approached the carefully protected spot where the Guardian
of Forever stood. As the small band finally came to halt, Spock
quietly came up beside Kirk.

A medical scan of the Enterprise landing party would have
revealed an extreme elevation of heart rate, and respiration,
yes, even Spock's heart rate had risen to 245 beats per minute.
He, of course, managed to regain control over his anatomical
responses quickly.

The Security Chief turned to the Captain. "Captain Kirk, I won't
be far away, in case you need assistance." Kirk quietly nodded,
and in a hushed tone replied, "I don't think we'll be needing any
assistance, thank you." The large Security Chief nodded, smiled,
then walked away.

Kirk looked toward Will Benson. "Doctor, in Commodore Mendez's
office you mentioned that Doctor Mathias had been assigned to
retrieve historical data from Samara's past."

"Yes, that's right." Will Benson's eyebrows furrowed.

"Exactly when in Samara's past was Doctor Mathias reviewing and
recording, Doctor?"

"Richard Mathias had been assigned to record historical data from
350 years ago to the Present."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Doctor Benson, why was Doctor Mathias
assigned to only record 350 years of Samaran's past history?"

Will Benson smiled. "Mister Spock, Richard Mathias had a
fascination for the ChenAra Mountain Scholars, and they first
made their presence known on Samara about 350 years ago. Anyway,
since this was to be Richard's last year to be serving with the
Starfleet Galactic Historical Department, the department head
members thought it might be a memorable send-off to assign him to
record the beginnings of the Scholar's history." Benson grinned
and added, "At least, we figured it would beat the stuffings out
of just giving him a gold watch at his retirement." Will Benson
then chuckled lightly.

Spock, failing to see any connection between gold watches and an
historical data gathering assignment, remained silent.

Kirk looked toward Spock. "Then 350 years past is where we want
to begin looking."

Spock nodded in acknowledgment, took a half step forward, and
holding the mesh box with the medallion out in front of him,
addressed the Guardian. "Guardian, I have inside this copper mesh
box a medallion, do you sense it?"

The Guardian's voice rumbled its response, "YES, I CAN SENSE THE
MEDALLION."

Then Spock asked, "Have you ever sensed this medallion before?"

"YES, I HAVE SENSED THE MEDALLION TWICE. THE FIRST TIME, WAS A
TIME 111 YEARS IN THE PAST. THE SECOND TIME WAS THREE WEEKS AGO."

Then Kirk asked, "Guardian, then does this medallion belong in
the Past, 111 years ago?"

"NO." The Guardian's response held a haunting, distant tone.

There was only one other time during which the Guardian had
sensed the medallion before, so Kirk stated, "Then the medallion
must be from the Present, or three weeks in the past."

The Guardian responded patiently, "DO YOU ASK A QUESTION?"

Frustrated, Kirk loudly answered, "Yes!" He took a deep breath,
letting it out, and began again, this time with a question,
"Guardian, does this medallion belong in the Present time?!"

"NO, IT DOES NOT." The Guardian's response had a distant,
mysterious quality.

This sent cold shivers down everyone's spine, with the exception
of Spock as he then cautiously asked, "Guardian, from whence does
this artifact come?"

"THE MEDALLION IS FROM A TIME, YET TO COME FOR YOU." Again, the
Guardian's tone was filled with the distance of time.

Each of the humans were now open-mouthed with shock, then Kirk in
a hushed, barely audible tone asked, "The Future?!"

"YES."

Spock's eyebrows drew together into a serious expression as he
glanced down at the medallion. He then looked up facing the
Guardian. "Guardian, it is imperative that we return this
medallion to its proper time, how may we accomplish this?"

There was more than just a few moments of silence before the
Guardian responded again, "ONE OF YOU MUST RETURN THE MEDALLION
TO THE TIME FROM WHICH IT WAS BROUGHT INTO THE PRESENT."

The humans looked at each other quizzically, then Kirk asked,
"Are you saying that one of us must go into the future?"

"NO!" The guardian boomed. "THAT WOULD NOT BE POSSIBLE. YOU MAY
ONLY TRAVEL INTO YOUR PAST. THE MEDALLION WAS BROUGHT FORWARD
INTO THE PRESENT FROM A TIME 111 YEARS IN YOUR PAST. ONE MUST
RETURN THE MEDALLION FROM WHENCE IT WAS BROUGHT TO THE PRESENT,"
the Guardian repeated sternly.

The attention of every member of the landing party then zeroed in
on Kirk. It was he who decided which member of the landing party
would return the medallion. As the commanding officer of this
little expedition, Kirk had to consider the risks of time travel,
and balance those risks with the qualifications of each of the
landing party members.

Doctor Benson had accumulated an extensive knowledge of Samara's
past through his recent involvement in the Memory Alpha Project.
His credentials as an accredited historian were impressive.

Doctor McCoy's time travel experiences were primarily in the
capacity of medical officer. His contribution, albeit a necessary
function whenever venturing into an unknown situation was, in
Kirk's opinion, not absolutely necessary this time.


In the final analysis, Kirk disqualified Doctor Benson due to a
lack of time travel experience, leaving himself and Spock as the
two remaining candidates for the task of returning the medallion.
The temptation to participate in the return of the medallion
notwithstanding, Kirk's eyebrows rose, as he reached the `logical
choice'. "Mister Spock, I believe you would be the best one to
return the medallion." Kirk then flipped open his communicator.
"Kirk to Enterprise."

An immediate response came, "Enterprise."

"Mister Sulu, please beam down some clothing appropriate to
Samara's past 111 years ago. Oh, and send down a hooded cape.
I've decided to send Mister Spock back to return the medallion,
and we don't know whether they're likely to have ever seen a
Vulcan before."

Kirk could hear faint sounds of a stifled chuckle as Sulu
replied, "Aye, sir. I'll have the appropriate clothing, and a
hooded cloak sent down to you right away."

"Thank you Mister Sulu." Kirk had the hint of a smile on his lips
as he closed his communicator.

Moments later a neat pile of rustic looking garments were
deposited several meters from where Spock was standing. Eyebrow
raised, Spock considered opening a communication channel to
admonish Mister Sulu for his inaccurate transporter coordinates
however reasoned that the return of the medallion must take
precedence. He then went to retrieve the clothing and promptly
began preparing himself for his journey. Once properly attired,
Spock once again addressed the Guardian. "Guardian."

"Yes. To whence do you wish to travel, and from whence come ye?"
The Guardian of Forever responded.

"I come from now, and I wish to travel 111 years into Samara's
Past from whence the medallion, which I now have in my
possession, was retrieved."

The center of Guardian of Forever silently began to swirl, and
congeal into a filmy image of Samara's Past. "Time and place
await you."

Spock, holding the mesh box containing the medallion, took a step
forward and vanished.



-29-



"Time for him had merged itself into eternity; he was, as we say, no more." 
from Characteristics, by Thomas Carlyle 



Doctor Benson, never having witnessed anyone going through the
Guardian before, shuddered slightly as Spock disappeared into
nothingness. Kirk's consistent reaction to watching one of his
crew go into an unknown situation without him was two fold: he
felt a twinge of jealousy, and a helpless sense of concern for
the well-being and safe return of the crew member, who in this
case was one of his most valued officers and a close friend.
McCoy had a concerned expression on his face as well. Kirk looked
over, and in a teasing manner, commented, "Well Bones, I didn't
realize you cared that much for Spock."

McCoy, seeming to be preoccupied, pointed at the center of the
Guardian, and asked, "Jim, did that look right to you?"

Kirk looked at where McCoy was pointing, and inquired, "Did what
look right, Bones?"

McCoy, still staring at the Guardian's center, inhaled, and
licking his lips nervously, responded cautiously, "There was
something about the way the Guardian looked just as Spock jumped
through." Then, McCoy, eyebrows furrowed with concern, looked at
Kirk and continued, "Jim, it just didn't look right." McCoy shook
his head. "I don't know, maybe it's just me. It's certainly been
a few years since I went through that confounded thing"

Kirk said consolingly, "No Bones, if you think you saw something,
let's check it out with the ship." Just then Kirk's communicator
began beeping insistently. Kirk pulled out his communicator and
opened the channel to receive. "Kirk here."


Sulu's response came immediately, "Sir, the ship's sensors have
detected unusual readings within the vicinity of the Guardian
during the past 10 minutes."

Kirk's expression was now one of foreboding. "Mister Sulu, what
kind of `unusual readings'?"

"We detected a very brief time distortion, or disturbance,
emanating from the Guardian. We've got the science computers
working on it now. Sir, if Spock is there, he'd be the best one
to figure out what's"

Kirk let out an exasperated breath, then interrupted Sulu.
"Mister Sulu, unfortunately Mister Spock was also the best one to
go through the Guardian to return the medallion. Let me know if
the ship's sensor's pick up anymore time disturbances. Kirk out."

Upon closing his communicator, Kirk stood silent, helplessly
staring into the center of the Guardian's swirling mists of
color, and wondered whether the brief time distortion may have
adversely affected Spock's journey through time. All they could
do now would be to wait and hope.



*****

Now dressed in indigenous clothing with hooded cloak, and
carrying a carefully concealed tricorder, Spock's form began to
coalesce into Samara's Past. He had a hazy awareness of the
ChenAra Mountains in the distance, and could hear the sounds of
people in Kadar behind him. Spock, then experienced a sensation
of dizziness, as if he were about to faint. His surroundings
mysteriously melted away, and became clear once again.

Spock found himself standing in the doorway of a very old
abandoned stone structure. As he stepped outside, Spock noticed
an imprint in the loose dirt where a person's body had been
lying. The impression looked recently made and either the
individual had gotten up, or was removed.

Turning around to survey the rest of the area Spock noticed that
the capital city behind him was unlike anything he remembered
having seen before on Samara. The buildings were pyramidal in
shape and made of an unrecognizable metallic substance. He could
see no windows, doors, or openings of any kind in the strange
buildings. Spock saw only a fraction of the number of population
he had remembered seeing in Kadar, and oddly, no one acknowledged
or even seemed to have noticed his sudden arrival.

"Fascinating!" thought Spock. "According to the historical
information supplied by Doctor Benson, the city of Kadar has
existed for approximately the last 200 years. If I have arrived
111 years prior to my departure, the city I recall seeing must be
here. Yet this quite obviously is not the same capitol city! My
spatial position appears to be correct, but the chronological
coordinate appears to be wrong."

Had he somehow been misplaced in time? Spock set about the
problem of finding a point of reference hoping to discover
exactly how far off from his intended mark he was.

As Spock considered the problem of finding a point of reference
in time, he first observed that the warmth and spectral color of
Samara's sun was much as he had remembered it to be.

Stellar time, then was not far-off the mark.

Were he a billion or more years in past, the nearby star's
radiant energy levels would be noticeably different. Spock
wondered when in time had he arrived.

Shifting his gaze to the west, Spock could see the ChenAra
Mountain range yawning into the distance. He noted that these
were the same geologically young mountains he and Kirk had
visited, before. It would take more than 100,000 years for them
to change significantly.

Upon closer examination of the mountains, Spock recognized the
distinctive skyline of seven fragile minarets on a nearby
fractured granite peak. He must then be within 1,000 years of his
intended time mark. The forces of erosion would both create and
destroy such fragile features within that time frame. This was
the best he could do without further information.

Then, becoming curious about his immediate surroundings, Spock
took out his tricorder. Recalling how the tricorder had not
functioned during his last visit due to electromagnetic
interference, Spock first made certain that his equipment was
functioning properly. He then walked over to one of the strange
looking buildings and attempted to ascertain the precise
micro-structure of the seemingly metallic material. As Spock
cautiously approached, none of the indigenous population
acknowledged his presence.

Scanning the side of one of the structures, Spock discovered that
it was indeed metal, but that it was of no known alloy. It's
micro-structure was crystalline in form, and atomic rather than
molecular in nature. Furthermore, its atomic nuclei exhibited
strong spin-polarization, as if they were under the influence of
an otherwise undetectable magnetic field. Spock considered the
value of spending additional time studying the quantum-mechanical
effects of spin-polarization upon the alloy's atomic crystalline
structure, but reasoned that his remaining time would be best
spent by pursuing his prime objective: returning the medallion to
its proper origin.

Having found no enlightening information from his examination of
the metal structure with which to deduce approximately when in
time he had arrived, Spock reasoned that his remaining time would
be best spent by simply attempting to locate someone who might
recognize the medallion. Spock then walked over to a couple of
men who, from their body postures and hand gestures, appeared to
be in the process of negotiating a business transaction. Spock
stood, waiting quietly for a few moments to see if there might be
an appropriate moment to speak. When it became obvious that their
business precluded any comfortable openings in which he might
interrupt briefly, Spock politely announced his presence.

"Please excuse my interruption Gentlemen. I wonder if you would
mind assisting me. I am a stranger here and I have a question
regarding an somewhat urgent matter."

The two men stopped talking, turned to face Spock, smiled and
nodded a silent greeting. Then one of them calmly acknowledged
Spock's request. "Yes Stranger, how may we help you?"

Spock mused how similar the man's demeanor was to that of the
Scholar to whom he and Captain Kirk had spoken. Spock then held
out the medallion for them both to see. "I am searching for the
owner of this medallion."

They both nodded in recognition, then the same man who had spoken
before responded reverently, "Yes, this is the symbol worn by the
Brotherhood of Scholars belonging to the Sigrad."

Spock's eyebrow rose curiously. "Are you referring to the ChenAra
Mountain Scholars?"

The two men looked at each other with quizzically. "Yes
Stranger." He then pointed toward the ChenAra Mountains.

Spock thanked them for their help and turned to head toward the
ChenAra mountains and the Scholar's village. As Spock walked
along, he recalled Doctor Benson as having said that with
reference to their own present time, the Scholar's first
established themselves on Samara 350 years ago. If he had not
gone any further back into the past, there was an excellent
probability that the small cluster of huts would be nestled right
next to the mountains where he had last seen it. Yet, as Spock
approached the ChenAra ridge, he could see that the Scholar's
village was gone. In fact, he could find no signs of habitation
anywhere as far as he was able to see.

Spock noticed that there appeared to be an animal trail crossing
through the former site of the village. As he reached the path,
and walked parallel to it, being careful not to disturb signs of
passage in the dust, Spock discovered a set of humanoid looking
footprints heading up the trail toward the mountains. He then set
out at a purposeful pace, tracking his unwitting guide.



*****

The trail curved around the face of the mountain to the east. As
Spock ascended, the terrain changed from sparse bare land to
increased vegetation which grew thick at the lower altitudes,
gradually thinning out and eventually disappearing at the higher
altitudes.

Spock walked nearly 5 km before reaching a bend in the path which
curved tightly around the mountain. Peering cautiously over the
precipice, Spock could see that there was a shear drop where a
carved away face of a cliff appeared to be. Having traversed the
narrow ledge, Spock discovered the path widened on the other side
of the bend. He then stopped to scan the area below.

Within moments after he had begun his surveillance, Spock's
acutely sensitive hearing detected the sound of many footsteps
approaching the mountain. He then spotted a long procession of
beings dressed in the traditional hooded robes of the ChenAra
Mountain Scholars. Oddly enough, they seemed to be heading
directly toward the base of a cliff.

The Samaran sun, now shining brightly just behind Spock's right
shoulder, sent streams of sunlight filtering down through the
vegetation. It was heading on towards early, mid afternoon. A
small patch of sunlight produced a spotlight through which each
of the Scholars solemnly proceeded one by one. As each of the
Scholars passed through the ray of sunlight, Spock's inner
eyelids instinctively closed shielding his retina from a
persistent, bright pin prick of light. Blocking any residual
radiant energy with his hand, Spock continued observing the
Scholars' progression. As the file of Scholars reached the
cliff's face, Spock heard what sounded like a combination of the
pneumatic doors aboard the Enterprise, and the buzzing or humming
of insects.

Spock theorized that the noise might have been a force field
changing flux, however he was unable to see anything clearly from
his current vantage point. He watched in fascination as each of
the Scholars passed solemnly through the face of the cliff.

Spock continued on down the path for another 7 minutes when he
finally came upon the point of entry. A neat double row of
footprints merged directly into the mountain and disappeared.
Spock carefully scanned the surrounding area. Unable to locate
any alternate routes of entry, Spock's only remaining logical
conclusion was that the Scholars had somehow managed to pass
through an invisible force field barrier. If this were true,
Spock then needed to think of a way of passing through the field.

According to Spock's knowledge of force fields, as with locked
doors, passage through them required either an overwhelming brute
force or a key to unlock or open the barrier. Unlike the key to a
locked door, the key to release a force field must be
non-physical. Force fields have the flux equivalent to such a key
hole if you have the right counter force field key. The closest
equivalent to a key, currently in his possession, was the
electromagnetic effect of the medallion.

Spock looked down at the mesh box in his hands, and recalling the
potent electromagnetic effect produced by the medallion, he first
attempted to open the lock by leaving the medallion enclosed in
the mesh box. Carrying the mesh box close to him, Spock then
slowly approached the bare face of the cliff, encountering a
hard, unyielding surface. With raised eyebrow, Spock paused
briefly to look for signs of life. Once assured that no one else
would be at risk, Spock then carefully removed the medallion, and
set the mesh box down. Holding the medallion in front of him,
Spock walked forward slowly a second time, in the attempt to
traverse the invisible entrance.

Spock once again heard the buzzing sound, and then he found
himself inside a dimly lit excavated passageway within the
mountain. Pale orange yellow lit torches lined the dirt walls on
both sides of the cavern. Once Spock's eyesight had adjusted to
the dim lighting, he could see that there were numerous corridors
which faded away into the distance. In the soft dirt on the
ground, he could see that there was evidence of freshly made
footprints going down one of the many different tunnels.
Squinting in the dim light, Spock then cautiously proceeded to
follow the footprints, keeping alert to anything which could be
seen, heard or otherwise sensed.

As he walked along, Spock silently considered how the Scholars
might have entered the mountain. He recalled first hearing the
sound of a force field changing flux when the Scholars passed
through the cliff, and once again as he entered the mountain.
Although this information revealed potential similarities between
the Scholars' mode of entry and his own, Spock felt there was an
important piece of the puzzle hidden in the back of his memory.
He had not been within clear visual range to see whether the
Scholars were wearing or carrying medallions. Spock carefully
retraced his observations from when he first sighted the Scholars
reexamining even the smallest, most insignificant seeming
details. Spock's eyebrow rose as a spark of memory came to the
surface of his conscious mind. As each of the Scholars passed
through an incidental ray of sunlight, a brief, tiny pin prick of
light radiated from their robes. Spock then realized that this
was indeed the missing piece of the puzzle. "The Scholars must
also have had medallions in order to have successfully passed
through the force field!"

Spock's expression became one concerned contradiction as his
eyebrows formed into a capital `V'. "If my conclusion is correct,
then why did the Scholar Captain Kirk and I spoke to deny having
any knowledge as to the medallion's purpose or ownership? It is
not logical that the Scholar's technological development be
presently more advanced than it is, or will be in 111 years." The
corners of Spock's mouth turned down, and his eyebrows still
formed into a concerned expression as he continued pondering the
disturbing inconsistencies of his current situation.

As Spock headed deeper into the mountain, he became subliminally
aware of something, like a mental itch, attempting to gently
touch certain elements of his rigidly controlled mental
processes. Once acknowledged, he noted that the sensation was
quite similar to the one he'd experienced when they captured
Mathias with the medallion. However, what he was sensing now was
not as penetrating. It was as if the field effect was being
carefully monitored.

Spock then reviewed his preliminary findings and appended them to
this latest experience, formulating a more finished conclusion,
"If the Scholars did indeed use medallions to pass through the
force field, then the emanations which I am sensing now must
therefore be coming from the other medallions."

Spock recognized that being guided by the remote mental
stimulation would serve as an effective means of locating the
Scholars only if he released the control of his own mind,
allowing the electromagnetic field to take control.
Theoretically, the electromagnetic effect could be used as a type
of homing signal which would guide him, with increased alacrity,
directly to the Scholars.


Upon releasing his mental control, Spock felt the emanations
pulling him down one of the corridors to the right. He was now
deep within the ChenAra Mountains. After an undetermined amount
of time, Spock became aware of a distant humming or buzzing
similar to, but not quite the same as, the force field he had
heard when the Scholars entered the mountain. As Spock grew
closer to what he presumed to be the source of the droning noise,
it became more clearly the sound of people chanting. Spock
cautiously approached an opening into a large, hollowed out cave
from which the chanting emanated.

Believing he was finally close to his desired goal, Spock then
regained control over his own mental functions and, approaching
the cave quietly, peeked in. The hooded figures whom Spock had
seen earlier were all standing, heads bent in prayer, around a
raised pyre upon which lay the body of a young man. Spock entered
the room quietly. However, to his extreme embarrassment, the
moment he crossed the threshold, he discovered that he had
somehow managed to attract their immediate attention. The ring of
Scholars had turn around as one, and were gazing curiously
straight at him.

Once the initial embarrassment of being discovered had subsided,
Spock then noticed that an ancient looking Scholar dressed in a
white robe, had excused himself from the circle of prayer, and
was approaching. The ancient Scholar was one of three who were
dressed in a similar colored robe, and, as had been previously
hypothesized, draped over the Scholar's shoulders was a medallion
just like the one Spock was carrying.



-30-



"I dipt into the future far as human eye could see, Saw the
vision of the world and all the wonder that would be."
from Locksley Hall, by Tennyson 



Spock watched silently as the ancient Scholar approached. Once
he'd come within normal speaking distance, Spock gave a
respectful nod of his head and said, "I beg forgiveness for my
intrusion upon your funeral ceremony."

The ancient Scholar nodded graciously and introduced himself. "I
am the Elder of the Sigrad, Kadem Aleem." Having already deduced
how Spock came to be within their sacred council chamber, the
ancient Scholar asked, "Who be you Stranger, and what be your
purpose within our private sanctum?"

"I am Spock." Then holding the medallion out for the Scholar to
see, added, "I have come seeking to return this medallion to its
owner."

The Elder Scholar reached out and gratefully retrieved the
medallion from Spock's hands. "On behalf of my Brethren, we thank
you for returning the Eban Nashon Min'Da belonging to our
deceased Novice Scholar." He indicated the young man's body atop
the funeral pyre with a restrained sweeping hand gesture, and
returning to scrutinize Spock, then asked, "May I know how it is
you came into possession of it?"

Spock first made a mental note to ask Doctor Benson about whether
Doctor Mathias had referred to the medallion as Eban Nashon
Min'Da, then, still uncertain as to his current point in time,
thought, `If I am indeed 111 years in the past, as I should be, a
response referring to time travel would be in direct violation of
the Prime Directive.' Spock decided to answer the question by
carefully circumventing any reference to time travel or other
worlds. "The medallion was repossessed from another who had been
misusing it's unusual behavior control properties." Spock made an
additional mental note, if there was an opportune moment, to ask
his Scholar host about the medallion's intended purpose.

Spock paused, then continued, "I do not know how the former
individual came into possession of the medallion, however, he has
confessed to have found it on the outskirts of a city called
Kadar."

Spock's knowledge of the ancient city of Kadar, and his reference
to the `Other' having come into possession of the Novice's Eban
Nashon "on the outskirts of a city called Kadar" then led Kadem
Aleem to suspect that Spock and the `Other' may have come from a
time in the distant past. Kadem Aleem then stated, "The city of
Kadar has not been called by that name for over several
centuries."

The Scholar's brow furrowed as he mentally queried, `how was
Spock brought from the past into the present, a time which for
Spock would be the future?' He then continued to ponder, `Who was
this Other referred to by the stranger Spock, and how had the
Other come into possession of the Novice's Eban Nashon Min'Da?'

Kadem Aleem wondered whether Spock was referring to the site
where the body of their unfortunate young Novice Scholar had been
returned through time via the Time Window. Kadem Aleem recalled
that upon going to retrieve the Novice's remains, he noted
evidence of a knife wound, which was the most probable cause of
the young Novice's death. He also noticed that the young Novice's
Eban Nashon Min'Da had been removed prior to his transference
back through time.

According to their teachings of those Novices preparing to
undergo the Test of Character, it was morally forbidden to give
away, or abuse their Eban Nashon Min'Da. The Eban Nashon had
therefore, been taken at some point after the Novice had been
killed and while he was still in the past.

The Elder Scholar was considering the complex gravity of the
situation when another Scholar, dressed in a gray robe, quietly
approached, and respectfully stood, several paces away.

Kadem Aleem turned and reverently handed the newly recovered Eban
Nashon Min'Da to the other Scholar. The gray robed Scholar then
walked over to the body of the young Novice, and gently placed
the chain carrying the medallion around Novice's neck.

The Elder Scholar then quietly continued his silent analysis.
`Was the Other responsible for the young Novice's untimely
demise...or did the Other happen upon the body of the young
Novice thereby removing the Eban Nashon Min'Da out of greed or
curiosity?'

The Scholar experienced an internal shiver at the probability of
the innocent young Novice's having been the victim of another's
unrestrained animal killing impulses. He then once again returned
to focus his attention on Spock. The hooded stranger Spock had
earlier claimed that the Eban Nashon Min'Da had been repossessed
from the as yet unknown Other. The Scholar wondered, `exactly how
and when had Spock finally come into possession of the Eban
Nashon Min'Da? Had Spock's repossession of the Eban Nashon also
been in a violent manner?'

In the mean time Spock had been observing the reverent
interaction between the Elder Scholar and his subordinate as the
Eban Nashon Min'Da was respectfully transferred. Once the
interaction was completed, and Spock again had the ancient
Scholar's attention, he then commented, "during my last visit to
the ChenAra Mountains, I spoke to a Scholar who denied any claim
to the medallion, and yet you have quite openly acknowledged this
Eban Nashon Min'Da as having belonged to one of your Brother
Scholars."

When the ancient Scholar finally spoke he carefully stated,
"Spock from the context of what you have just told me it seems
that you may have entered this time, perhaps by accident, from
another period in time."

Spock now appearing concerned, thought, `These people should have
no knowledge of time travel.' However, now that there was an open
admission of knowledge of time travel, Spock then reasoned that
he now would not be in violation of the Prime Directive by
responding to the ancient's Scholar's question. "Since you appear
to have assessed that I may have traveled here from another time,
you must then understand that I must return to my own time again
soon. Since I will be requiring your presence to pass through the
mountain, shall we answer each other's questions as we proceed
toward the mountain's exit?"

Having no objection, the Scholar nodded silently and turned to
lead the way.

As they strode purposefully toward the mountain's force field
entrance, Spock thought, `When I first arrived on Samara with
Captain Kirk, there were a couple of landmarks which now are not
there. Most disturbing!' Then continuing his mental review he
thought about how the familiar capitol city of Kadar had been
replaced by a strange metallic metropolis, and how he had been
unable to find any trace of the Scholar's village.

These observations clearly represented unexplainable anomalies,
unless he had been somehow brought into a time other than the
intended past. Had he somehow been sent into a Future time
perhaps? Knowing that this was beyond the powers of the Guardian
of Forever, Spock's left eyebrow elevated at the incredible
prospect.

Spock turned to the ancient Scholar and commented, "I am very
much impressed by what I have seen since I entered the mountain."
He then asked curiously, "How were you able to excavate such an
elaborate tunneling system?"

Kadem Aleem's cowled face held the same concerned expression he'd
had since their first meeting. After a few moments of
anticipatory silence he responded cryptically, "Spock, as a
stranger you represent a potential disturbance within the
peaceful balance of our carefully ordered social system." Then
continued to explain with an analogy. "Imagine dropping a stone
into a pool of calm water"

Spock nodded comprehendingly, and politely interrupted, assuring
the Ancient Scholar that he had no intentions of disturbing their
peace.

Reasonably satisfied, Kadem Aleem nodded then proceeded to
respond more directly to Spock's previous question. "Upon the
arrival of the Industrial Age the ChenAra Mountains were
discovered to hold a veritable treasure hold of precious metals,
ores and gemstones. The ruling Archon then decreed that the
ChenAra Mountains should be mined, and `promised' that the wealth
would be used to help the Samaran people. Many Samarans came from
all over and volunteered to help work in the mines. The Archon
however was both clever and ruthlessly greedy, and he had no
honest intentions of sharing the profits gained with everyone.
Instead, those who were already wealthy, became more so." The
Ancient Scholar fell silent for a few moments. There was an
expression of great sadness on his heavily lined face.

He then resumed speaking, "As the destruction of the Mountain
continued, the Scholar's became discouraged over the strength
which the specter of wealth held over basic human nature. They
found themselves in a most untenable position. The madness for
promised wealth grew, like a snowball gathering speed which
increased with size. A collectively growing sense of urgency grew
among the Scholars to try to stop the wonton destruction of the
ChenAra Mountains. It became clear that extraordinary measures
were called for, and so the Scholars then voted and the majority
agreed to offer their unconditional assistance to help work in
the mines."

This last statement had Spock raising a questioning eyebrow. He
then asked, "Sir, what logical reasoning led to this obviously
contradictory conclusive decision?"

Kadem Aleem nodded, and gave Spock a tired smile and proceeded to
explain the logic of their decision. "The Scholars believed that
by offering to work in mines they might then obtain the support
of the other workers to help save the ChenAra Mountains."

Spock nodded as he recognized the essence of logic within Kadem
Aleem's explanation, and motioned to the Scholar to continue.

The Ancient Scholar continued, "Suspicious at first, the Archon
refused the Scholars' apparently magnanimous offer. Then the
Archon's lust for greater wealth urged him into changing his
previous interdiction, and he agreed to accept the Scholar's
generous assistance within his mines."

With a gleam in his eyes, Kadem Aleem pointed an aged wrinkled
finger at Spock, and continued. "The Archon's decision to allow
the Scholars into the mines was one which he would soon regret.
Since only a select few reaped the reward of the labor, the
Scholars urged the workers to cease toiling in the mines for the
benefit of the rich. The lust for promised wealth and the
destruction of the Mountain gradually subsided, and the last of
the Archon dynasty's finally came to end." Kadem Aleem paused
briefly, then concluded, "To protect the mountain from any
further ravaging, the Scholars then adopted the gutted out
caverns as their new home."

Spock, already knowing at least part of the answer, then asked,
for confirmation, "Then the Scholars at one time did reside
outside of the ChenAra Mountain?"

Kadem Aleem nodded then responded, "Yes."

As they continued to walk along, many questions still burned
within Spock's mind, not the least of which was to `when' in time
had he arrived?

Then Kadem Aleem's brow was furrowed as he turn his head slightly
and asked Spock, "How were you able to pass through into this
time? Did you enter into this time through the Time Window?"

Spock, not recognizing the reference to `the Time Window'
responded simply, "No, sir." He then released a controlled sigh
and began recounting his unusual trip through time. "I entered
into the stream of time through a time portal known as the
Guardian of Forever intending to travel 111 years from my own
present time into Samara's past. It was within Samara's past that
the other from whom we confiscated the medallion came into
possession of it. He then brought the medallion back through time
from the past into what I know as the present and he proceeded to
misuse it's remarkable behavior control field. I was instructed
by the Guardian of Forever to return the medallion to the time
from which it had been removed. However, it appears that I did
not arrive at my intended destination."

Since the Time Window's first discovery, the Scholars had managed
through the years to calculate the Time Window's closing to
within 10 minutes, after which anyone caught on either side of
the Window would risk having to wait another 30 years for the
next Time Window dilation. Kadem Aleem therefore knew that the
Time Window would remain sufficiently dilated for Spock to return
to his own present for only a few more hours.

"We thank you for your efforts on our behalf. The return of the
Eban Nashon Min'Da is most important to us," Kadem said. "Come!
We must hurry if you are to return to your own time at all!"



-31-



"Time departed, again men may not call." 
from Fall of Princes, by John Lydgate 



Spock's mind continued to race as they hastened toward the
mountain's force field entrance. Precisely four hours of
"experienced time" had elapsed since his initial arrival1. Spock,
recognized then that there was only 15 minutes left of the 30
minutes of "real time" allotted for time travel before the
Guardian of Forever would be attempting to find and pull him back
through time again.

Spock quickened his pace. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern
and questions.


The origin of the medallion continued to be of particular
interest to Spock as he turned and asked, "I spent time examining
the young Scholar's medallion, and I am curious as to it's origin
and designed purpose."

Kadem Aleem remained quiet for a few moments with concerned gaze
into Spock's eyes. Again, he was reluctant to share information
with an outsider of his world and time. However, with an
assurance from Spock that the information would not be abused, he
proceeded to explain how the Eban Nashon Min'Da had come into
being.

"During one young Scholar's work shift, an extraordinary ore was
discovered. The unusual ore was brought before the Sigrad,
consisting of a main council of twelve Scholars, for examination
during which the ore was discovered to emit a behavior modifying
electromagnetic field."

Kadem Aleem paused as Spock interjected, "Yes, in an unrefined
state this ore's malleable effect on humans is remarkably
comparable to that of being hypnotized or drugged with an
amphetamine based compound."

Kadem Aleem nodded, smiled slightly, then continued, "The
Scholars then called a meeting to discuss the relative value of
their find. Samara was still undergoing a violence-oriented time,
and the Scholars recognized it was possible that the planet would
eventually pass through the current stage of greed and violence,
maturing into a peaceful society. This desired stage of
development might also take many centuries, or the abundance of
greed and violence which prevailed on the planet could very well
bring

the planet's entire civilization to a bloody violent, and
senseless end. With this realization, the Scholars examined the
notion of carrying small discreetly hidden pieces ore into all of
the major centers of unrest."

"Then, a Scholar whose special field of study was in sferics3,
developed a medallion encasing a small piece of the ore inside
where it's field could be safely controlled by the wearer. Once
again, the ore, now carefully shielded within the housing of the
medallion, was brought before the council of twelve Scholars for
examination and evaluation. With the combined efforts of Scholars
knowledgeable in the fields of neurology, sferics, and telurgy
(telepathy), an aura tuning conductor, referred as the Eban

Nashon Min'Da was developed. The council of Scholars voted to
begin the widespread employment of the controlled electromagnetic
aura tuning field, and the Eban Nashon Min'Da then came to be
acknowledged as a recognized badge belonging to the Scholars'
sect."

Spock then asked, "Sir, with regard to your reference to the
medallion, I am curious as to why you refer to it as the Eban
Nashon Min'Da?"

Kadem Aleem nodded then explained simply, "The Eban Nashon Min'Da
means `Stone of Knowledge and Wisdom'. It has been through our
centuries of its use in tempering the violent impulses of the
people of Samara that we've led them toward a peaceful and
mutually prosperous coexistence. This was the beginning of the
Time of Reawakening."

Spock nodded thoughtfully, and they continued to walk briskly
along in silence for a while. Both were involved privately with
the problem of returning Spock to his own present.

As they finally reached the force shield, with their passage back
through the field Spock once again heard the familiar buzzing
noise. They both then stepped out, blinking, into the bright late
afternoon sunlight.

They continued at a brisk pace toward the site where Spock had
first entered this time. Spock now began to accept the almost
irrefutable probability that he had somehow been sent into a
future time. He continued his steady pace he thought, `Thus far,
everything I've encountered seems to indicate that I have managed
somehow to pass through time into a future time. But how? The
flow of time was such that it was not considered scientifically
possible to enter a time which has not yet occurred?!'

An uncomfortable feeling unsettled Spock's analysis as he
thought, `Since I'm not where I should be, the Guardian of
Forever might not be able to return me to my proper time again.'
Spock's final analysis was that he might not be able to get back
and he therefore must face the increasing probability that he
would spending the rest of his life here. As Spock consciously
quickened his pace he the wondered, `What was the Scholar's
reference to a "Time Window",' and what correlation, if any did
this have with the Guardian of Forever?'

Kadem Aleem appeared to almost telepathically anticipate what
Spock was wondering. He was finding it a physical challenge to
keep up with the long-legged, considerably younger stranger, and
in a slightly breathless manner prefaced, "Spock, you stated
earlier that you had left your present time for past time through
a time portal which you referred to as the Guardian of Forever."

Spock, seeing no logical need for a lengthy response of an
obviously correctly understood statement replied simply, "Yes,
that it correct."

Then Kadem Aleem continued by asking, "Have you ventured through
time prior to this occasion via the same means?"

Again only a simply reply was necessary. Spock answered, "Yes."

Then the Scholar continued with another question, "Was there
anything different about this experience? If so, would you please
attempt to describe the discrepancies within the experience?"

Spock, who had been analyzing his initial appearance into this
time since his arrival, then formulated a detailed response to
the Scholar's question. Spock recognized that there might be
within the description a clue as to how he arrived in this time,
and then proceeded with his report.

"My initial arrival into the past through the Guardian began
normally. I started to coalesce into the correct time, I then
experienced an unusual sensation of dizziness. My surroundings
faded, and then became clear again. During the time between the
two moments of clarity, I experienced a sensation of being caught
in a time warp eddy which then `rechanneled', or transferred me
from the one time continuum into the other." As Spock finished
speaking he glanced expectantly toward the Scholar.

The ancient Scholar simply nodded quietly to himself, appearing
as if he were not in the least bit confused or surprised by what
Spock had just said.

Then seeing no immediate response forth coming Spock asked, "Sir,
can you tell me how I got here, and how I might return to my own
time again?"

Kadem Aleem pursed his lips, took in a deep breath proceeded with
response, "The Time Window is one of numerous suspected
`tributaries', as is the Guardian of Forever, into the main
stream of time. I believe that upon entering the main stream of
time through the Guardian of Forever you were, as you surmised,
`rechanneled' into an alternate time tributary. You were then
brought `back' through time via the Time Window when it retrieved
the Eban Nashon Min'Da in your possession. However, according to
your own time frame you have been brought several centuries into
your future." The Scholar completed his explanation, fell silent,
and glanced over toward Spock.

Upon hearing confirmation of what he had been suspecting, Spock
slowed his walking pace almost to a complete halt as he
experienced a sudden jolt of incredulity.

Kadem Aleem then took hold of Spock's arm, and gently indicated
that they should pick up their pace again. He waited until it
appeared Spock had managed to assimilate the shock of the
realization, and then continued to answer rest of Spock's
previously asked question, "According to my estimation the Time
Window will remain sufficiently dilated for you to return to your
own present for only a few more hours."

Spock then recalculated how much time was currently left before
the Guardian of Forever would be attempting to bring him back to
his own time. He probably had another 12 minutes of `real' time
left, after which it wouldn't matter whether he got through the
Time Window on time on not. He would remain almost irretrievably
lost within the stream of time. The diversion from the one time
tributary into the other just may have inexorably sealed his
fate. Spock sighed, maintaining a steady pace as he thought of
all the people he would regret not seeing ever again, and his
life as he knew it, his Starfleet career would be brought to an
unfortunate end. Spock remained pensively quiet until they
reached the point of his entrance into this future time.

As they approached the old stone tavern Spock became aware of the
seed of a sudden flash of insight. `It is illogical to presume
that the Scholars would have maintained this particular edifice
through the many centuries, in its original form, for reasons of
sentiment.' Then Spock's eyebrow rose as he asked, indicating the
old stone structure, "Sir, is this where the Time Window exists?"


The ancient Scholar looked into Spock's eyes and nodded then
solemnly ushered Spock toward the now open doorway into time.

Spock's heart rate increased as he stepped forward into the Time
Window. He halted one step away from the door frame thinking,
`There is no guarantee that I will successfully make the transfer
back through time.' He then, closed his eyes, and as he took the
last step forward his form blinked out of the future, and into
the stream of time.



-32-



"Hame's hame, be it never so hamely." 
from Law a Bottomless Pit, by John Arbuthnot 



Kirk gritted his teeth, tightened his jaw and asked once again.
"Guardian! Do you know to where in time Spock has been sent?!"

The Guardian of Forever responded in its usual emotionally
detached tone, "Your first officer, and friend has been misplaced
within time."

Doctor McCoy walked over to Kirk, and glanced angrily at the
Guardian. "Jim, I'm concerned about Spock too. I never did trust
that blasted--"

Kirk shot a searing glance toward McCoy, then returned his
attention toward the Guardian of Forever, and asked in a tone of
just barely controlled anger, "How was he `misplaced,' and to
where, or when?!"

The Guardian's response was, once again, in it's
characteristically slow ponderous manner, "Once the time
traveler's passage through my portal was completed, he then
passed over into an alternate time line. I do not know to whence
he arrived."

Kirk sighed, lowered his head, and returned to his pacing. But
before he could finish, Spock's form suddenly emerged from the
center of the portal.

For a few moments, everyone just stood, surprised with mouths
open. Then they all walked over to Spock.

Kirk was the first to speak. "Spock!" He went over to his friend
and grabbed both Spock's shoulders. Then McCoy walked over
pointing an accusing finger at Spock. "Where in the name of
Hades?"

Spock calmly interrupted, glancing impatiently toward McCoy, and
with a mysterious aura, then turned to proceed with his report.
"Captain, the medallion has been successfully returned to its
owner."

Kirk shook his head. "Spock! After you went through the Guardian
an odd time distortion occurred."

Spock calmly nodded. "Yes, sir. You will recall our confusion as
to how to return the medallion to the future when the Guardian of
Forever offers us access only to the past?"

"Yes," Kirk eyed Spock, waiting for one of Spock's typically long
winded explanations.

"It appears that a traveler carried the medallion from far in the
future to a time 111 years in our past via another time warp
corridor not currently known to the Federation. When the traveler
lost his life in an unfortunate turn of events, possession of the
medallion passed to Mathias who immediately returned here from
his unauthorized excursion via the Guardian of Forever. After I
passed through the Guardian's portals, I was released within
range of the other time window. The medallion, having properties
of which we were unaware, acted as a homing beacon and
precipitated my passage into the future. Fortunately, I was able
to return before the other time window closed and the Guardian
lost its power to retrieve me."

"Incidentally, Captain," Spock digressed, "Mathias' mistaken
impression that he had succeeded in traveling to the future is
understandable, given that he had little time to verify his point
of arrival and that he successfully retrieved a device
inconsistent with current Samaran technology."

Kirk, dissatisfied with Spock's uncharacteristically incomplete
report regarding his experience, began asking for more details.
"Spock, to where, or `when'?"

However Spock intervened, and standing rigidly reiterated,
"Captain, the time to which I was sent provided me with the means
through which I was able to successfully accomplish the mission
of returning the medallion." Spock then pulled himself up into a
straight rigid posture and continued, "With all due respect, sir,
I feel that by being any more specific about my experience might
be within the boundaries of a violation to our own Prime
Directive, I therefore, on those grounds, can tell you nothing
more."

Kirk nodded, "Yes Mister Spock, I think I understand." He then
pulled out his communicator, and in a slow tired voice contacted
the ship. "Kirk to Enterprise."

Mister Sulu's response came almost immediately. "Enterprise,
Captain, has Mister Spock?"

Kirk smiled tiredly, answering, "Yes, Mister Spock has finally
returned from the elsewhen into the now. Beam us up home Mister
Sulu."

Just before the transporter effect had dematerialized them,
through the opened communicator channel, they heard Sulu issuing
a relieved sounding, "Thank God, and welcome back."



*****

The landing party intact, and back on board, Kirk settled back
into his command chair. "Set a course for Starbase Eleven. Mister
Sulu, leave orbit when ready, Warp Factor Four."

"Aye, sir. Laying in a course now for Starbase Eleven, warp
factor Four."

Spock moved quietly over to the Science Station and set to work
on recording his report of the recently completed mission.

McCoy, stood next to the command chair, with hands held behind
his back, his eyebrows drawn, and his mouth was turned down
slightly in an expression of concentrated thought.

Kirk, on the other hand, seemed to be involved with thoughts,
which by the expression on his face, were completely unrelated to
their recent near mishap with time.

McCoy raised a curious eyebrow, and turning his gaze toward Kirk,
mused aloud, "Jim, I wonder to when Spock was sent?"

Kirk sighed, looked at McCoy and responded, "I guess we'll never
really know Bones."

Then turning toward the science station Kirk noticed Spock
studying some readout information, with a curiously furrowed
expression and asked, "Mister Spock have you found something of
interest you'd like to share?"

Spock inhaled stiffly, then reported, "Throughout our mission
involving Samara, I have been conducting an in depth study on the
curiously secretive, hermetic Samaran splinter culture sect the
ChenAra Mountain Scholars. I have finished entering into the
computer what background and cultural information I learned
regarding the ChenAra Mountain Scholars."

Pausing, he raised an upswept eyebrow into a distant, and
cryptically disturbed expression, then continued, "From my brief
observations and verbal interactions, I could sense the existence
of an intelligence reaching far beyond the level currently
evident among the general population on Samara. The Scholar's
appear to be akin to a parent civilization. They view their
purpose on Samara as being the teachers and guides. They temper
and share their knowledge only in accordance with what they, in
their wisdom, believe the general population is culturally ready
to accept."

Kirk furrowed his brow and asked, "Mister Spock, the Scholars
have been on Samara for many thousands of years. Since before
Samaran recorded history. Do you think the they could possibly
have been `seeded' on Samara by a more advanced race?"

Spock shook his head, frowning. "No Captain, there is nothing
currently known to substantiate such a probability. I believe the
Scholars have been continuing their sect through a process of
careful selection of genetically and temperamentally suited
individuals, the age of 18, who are then asked to undergo a
specially enhanced educational program."

"Hmmm." Kirk lifted a Spockian eyebrow, then grinning
mischievously remarked, "Well Mister Spock, I think my theory has
more intrigue, however, since we've seen no evidence of
procreation, as in no pregnant Scholars, no children or babies to
grow up to become Scholars, your supposition is most likely the
way new little Scholars are made."

Kirk then sat quietly back in his command chair with a smug
expression and returned to his previous train of thought.

McCoy continued to observe Kirk quietly with a raised eyebrow,
and quizzical expression for a few moments then commented, "Jim,
ever since we returned from that God forsaken time planet you've
looked like the cat that ate the bird and got away with it. If
it's not prying, what have you been thinking about?"

Kirk looked up at his friend with a slight blush and a devilish
grin, as an enticingly clear mental image of Joletta formed.
Within his mind's eye he saw her limpid emerald green eyes, and
her alluring smile. Then Kirk let out a long sigh, raised a
reflective eyebrow and responded aloud mysteriously, "Bones I am
definitely not thinking of a `what', but of someone I'm hoping to
get to know better."

"Jim I've seen that love-sick, moony-eyed, look may times before!
Especially on you!"

Kirk frowned.

Chuckling softly, McCoy, placed a friendly hand on Kirk's
shoulders, and asked, "So, who is this time Jim?" Then, in a tone
of voice just loud enough for everyone to hear, McCoy
triumphantly announced, "It's Joletta! Isn't it?"

Kirk turned away, faced forward and said nothing. If Kirk could
have figured out a way to be invisible and still maintain
effective control over the ship, at that moment, he would have
done so!

Smiling, McCoy cocked his head and then reiterated his question
in a more confidential tone, "Well Jim, is your latest heart
throb that beautiful green-eyed, red head?"

Kirk leaned forward, pretending not to be aware of McCoy's
Cheshire cat grin, and asked, "Mister Sulu, what is our current
E.T.A. to Starbase 11?"

Holding down a chuckle, but grinning, Sulu turned and responded.
"E.T.A. to Starbase, 3 hours, 37 minutes Captain."

Kirk nodded satisfied, then sat back again in his chair. Through
his peripheral vision he could see that silly Cheshire cat smile
on McCoy's face.

Chuckling, McCoy interjected, "Yeah, Jim, I understand. She is an
extremely intelligent 'n competent psychologist, and yawl's just
in the mood for being psychoanalyzed."

Embarrassed, Kirk responded sheepishly, "Something like that."



-Epilogue-



"Love is the platform upon which all ranks meet." 
W.S. Gilbert, H. M. S. Pinafore, Act ii 





On Starbase 11, Doctor Joletta Pierce sat at her desk quietly
reading over the file on Richard Mathias's recent escapades on
Samara. She was the resident expert in the analysis and
rehabilitation of the symptoms of L.A.S., or Late Age Syndrome,
and so had been assigned to Mathias' case.

As Mathias waited outside the office, he looked down, shook his
head, sighed and thought sadly to himself, `My attempts to help
have been misunderstood, and now, what must the historical
community think!'

Then the whooshing sound of a pneumatic door opening brought
Mathias suddenly back to the here and now. Smiling
sympathetically, Joletta Pierce placed a hand gently onto
Mathias' slumping shoulder. "Come on into my office now Doctor
Mathias. Let's talk a little bit about your adventure on Samara."

Sighing again, Mathias smiled tiredly as Joletta respectfully
ushered Mathias into her office. Joletta pulled a chair over, and
indicated for Mathias to be seated, then sat in an adjacent seat.

Mathias sullenly looked down at the blue-green mottled carpeting.
He sensed Joletta's concern in her gaze. A painfully awkward
silence made the time feel like an eternity. Mathias sighed.
"Joletta, I think you probably know everything"

Joletta, smiling, nodded and interjected, "Yes, but Richard what
I'm really curious about is first, when you found the medallion,
how did you discover how to work the medallion? And then after
you'd discovered its special properties, what, or who gave you
the idea to try to accelerate the development of the Samaran
culture?"

Mathias looked up and smiled sheepishly. He then inhaled deeply
and began slowly to tell his side of the story. "Well, this was
just after I'd gone through time and returned again, without
anyone knowing I'd been gone."

Joletta abruptly averted her glance down toward the open file on
Mathias' case on her desk. Although it had not actually been
proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had been in some way
responsible for innocently distracting the security guard's
attention that fateful day, Joletta felt in part responsible, and
guilty.

"I see here, Richard, that during your foray into this other time
you claim to have met a young man, who was, at least up to the
time of his untimely demise, wearing this medallion. Did this
young man tell you about the medallion's special power, and teach
you how to use it?"

Mathias shook his head. "No, he, the young man thought I was a
ChenAra Mountain Scholar, and so he trusted me!" Mathias looked
down at his feet and continued, "But he didn't tell me that it
could be used to alter behavior. I discovered that on my own,
purely by accident! My first discovery of how the medallion
worked was when I was alone in the dormitory bungalow."

Joletta then asked, "But when you brought the medallion back
through time into the present, you at first thought it was merely
an interesting looking historical relic?"

Mathias nodded, and sighed. "Yes, I thought that what I had
brought back was simply a relic."

Joletta nodded and asked, "Okay, so then you were alone in the
dorm bungalow, with the medallion, what happen?"

Mathias glanced down at his hands as if once again examining the
medallion. His expression was far away, as he remembered back to
that day. Mathias sighed then returned his gaze toward Joletta.
"Well, as I've already said, I was alone in the dorm," Mathias
paused, his brows furrowed, and the pupils of his eyes dilated
upon remembering his fear of being observed. Beads of
perspiration were glistening on his forehead as he then added, "I
looked around to make certain I was alone." His expression began
to relax somewhat, he nodded to himself and then continued with
his story, "I was fascinated by the pictoglyphs on the one side
of the medallion, and so, I started to examine it more closely--"
Just then Mathias' mouth fell open and silent, and he had an
oddly confused expression on his face.

Joletta waited quietly for a moment or two for Mathias to
continue, but then after a few moments of silence, she leaned
forward, and placing a hand gently onto Mathias's shoulder,
asked, "Richard? Are you all right?"

Mathias snapped out of his mesmerized state, and looking at
Joletta with an embarrassed expression, nodded silently then
continued. "So anyway, where was I?" Mathias furrowed his brows
and thought for a moment. "Oh yes, now I remember. I was sitting
on my cot, alone in the dorm, and I was examining the symbols on
the medallion, when I suddenly felt a sensation of dizziness. So
I then dropped the medallion onto the floor and shook my head to
regain my clarity of awareness."

With raised eyebrows, Joletta frowned, and asked her first
question once again, rephrasing the wording, "Okay, so you
discovered that this medallion had certain disorienting
capabilities," Joletta paused briefly, before asking the second
part of her question. "Richard, did you then try out this
discovery to see if it would work on anyone else?"

Placing his hands onto his lap and lacing his fingers, Mathias
hesitated before answering. He was in more than enough trouble
now as it was, to not also confess to having used one of his own
Gateway colleagues, the innocent and naive young Adam, as a
guinea pig to prove his theory that the medallion might be used
for more than merely a unique historical artifact and piece of
jewelry. But, this information was bound to surface sooner or
later anyway, so then Mathias returned a repenting and guilty
glance toward Joletta. "Yes,"

Joletta, hearing this fell back against her chair, eyebrows
raised, and simply asked, "Who?"

"Adam McNeil." Mathias responded, then continued, "I lured young
Adam into the dorm bungalow under the pretense that I merely
wanted talk with him, and then once we were alone together, as we
were talking I focused the pictographic side of the medallion to
face toward Adam."

Joletta shook her head, not certain as to whether she really
wanted to hear further, asked, "So then, what happened?"

Then Mathias smiled to himself with an almost impish sense of
pride and responded. "Well, within moments of focusing the
medallion's face toward Adam, he became disoriented and extremely
open to suggestion."

`Oh God!' Joletta thought. Then she sighed heavily and asked,
"You mean hypnotically open to suggestion?"

Mathias smiled slightly and nodded.

Joletta could see an expression of almost childlike pride in
Mathias' face, and then gently asked, "Richard, what suggestion
did you make to Adam?"

Mathias then leaned forward defensively. "Oh, it wasn't anything,
illegal, or immoral. I simply suggested that after our visit he
might be in the mood for a cup of tea."

Nodding, Joletta frowned and repeated, "A cup of tea?" She paused
then asked, "Was that all?"

Mathias nodded sincerely.

Joletta sighed. "I see. Well then, may I safely assume that you
contrived at least a part of your notion of trying to accelerate
the development of the Samaran culture from this little
experiment?"

Mathias frowned and thought silently for a moment, then responded
cautiously, "Yes, but I also just wanted to do something to end
my career proudly." Then looking across at Joletta's expression
of professional understanding, and concern, Mathias stopped and
realized just exactly how ridiculous his reasoning must have
sounded. All along he had been thinking about his own career, and
not really ever rationally considering what he was doing to, not
for, the Samaran people!

Joletta then nodded and attempted to conclude the interview
encouragingly, "Well, Doctor Mathias, the charges levied against
you are serious. Interfering with the development of another
planet's culture is in violation of the Prime Directive. I will
however stand with you to testify as to your intentions being
well meant and not premeditated. I don't believe you intended any
harm."

Mathias silently shook his head `no', then they both stood.
Mathias sheepishly held out a grateful right hand. "Thank you
Joletta." He then was escorted gently by a security guard from
the office and back to his holding quarters.

As Joletta watched the two leave her attention was suddenly
diverted to her desk intercom. Sitting down, she pressed the
receive button. "Doctor Pierce."

Then a faintly familiar, male voice spoke. "Doctor Pierce, I
don't know whether you will remember me or not, but I am James
Kirk."

Joletta sat up in her chair with an expression of interested
recognition on her face. "Yes, Captain James T. Kirk of the
starship Enterprise, of course I remember!" Joletta began to
blush, then asked, "Well Captain, what can I do for you?"

On Kirk's end, he too was considering the many possibilities. He
confidently then responded, "Since I have some time to spend
between assignments, I would very much like to get to know you a
little better Doctor. Would you do me the honor of meeting me for
dinner in the Officers lounge later?"

Joletta smiled, and her emerald green eyes sparkled with
anticipation as she first composed herself, then responded,
"Thank you, Captain, I accept your invitation, and look forward
to seeing you."

---------------------------------------------------
shannara@unicomp.net Archivist Star Trek Stories for All Ages
http://extra.newsguy.com/~trekfic

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