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 specia