The Escape (9 page)

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Authors: Dean Wesley Smith,Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Escape
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Kjanders took a sip of the synthale, swallowed, and smiled at her. Then he leaned back in his chair.

"About two thousand Real Time years ago a team led so by a man named Caxton discovered time travel.

They learned very quickly that time lines could be changed with just the slightest of tampering. This tampering caused serious problems. So in those early years, a very small and powerful circle were the only people who even knew that we could travel in time." "Was your culture traveling in space?" Tuvok asked. "A bit," Kjanders said. "We were having trouble with population density. But Alcawellians, even then, tended to choose a site and live there as long as they could. They would defend that site to the death and have no real reason to leave it. Space travel seemed like a lot of effort to get somewhere no one wanted to go. Then, when the early ships exploded due to bad design, space travel lost its support." "Tuvok," Janeway said, "I need information that might help get our people back. Your fascination with this culture is understandable, but right now I want no sidetracks. Continue, Mr. Kjanders." Kjanders shot what appeared to be a nervous glance at Tuvok. "Well," Kjanders said, "Caxton and his friends in government finally decided that space was both unpopular and too dangerous, but the Iiistory of the planet was a wide-open playground.

Alcawell is over nine billion years old.

Over five billion of those years it has been capable of sustaining our needs. However, we only evolved on the planet during about a half million years or so." "So people started going back in time?" Chakotay asked. "Actually, they started living in time.

Caxton and his team divided up the entire history of the planet, 91 forward and back, into five-hundred-thousand-year chunks. Each five hundred thousand years is called a Period." Janeway nodded. So that was the Period Kjanders had referred to when he arrived. And because the away team was three hundred thousand years in the past, they were still in the same. Period.

"Our dating system is a bit confusing," Kjanders said, "since we did not alter our Real Time calendar when we discovered time travel.

Instead, each Period follows a Real Time calendar based on our old calendar." "When you refer to Real Time," Chakotay said, 46you mean linear time. Right now, you are existing in Real Time." "Exactly," Kjanders said. "We may travel hundreds of thousands or even millions of years, but we live a normal Real Time life span.

Which, for us, is about a hundred years." "Let me see if I understand this," Janeway said. "Each Period is five hundred thousand years long. The years within those five hundred thousand run chronologically. So year one in the first Period is five hundred Ihousand years away from year one in the second period." "Exactly," Kjanders said. "The system is a bit confused because the first Periods were set up before Caxton and his people discovered that some Periods are bad no matter what. They designated those Peri ods as Red Periods. No one may travel to them. Even moving a stone in those Periods might change the course of history. But we travel in Black Periods, 99 allowed Periods, where we can touch anything we want." Tuvok templed his fingers and brought them to his lips, contemplating. "That effectively eliminates all time paradoxes then," he said.

"I assume Red Periods cover Periods of important biological change. The Black Periods have a span long enough that if a person changes something in year one, Black Period One, it wouldn't matter in year one, Black Period Two." "Right," Kjanders said.

Janeway had enough theory. She wanted something she could use to help Torres, Kim, and Neelix.

"What is today's date as you people count it in Real Time?" "I don't know exactly," Kjanders said. "As I mentioned, I didn't plan my trip here. I am guessing that it is about three hundred thousand, one hundred, give or take some years, Period Eighteighty-nine." Janeway nodded.

"And where exactly are my people, in your Real Time years?" "Three thousand seventy-one Real Time, Period Eighteighty-nine. And that's their problem," Kjanders said. "They didn't jump far enough. Timejumping within a Period is forbidden. The trip here is the first time I have ever done it." "So your people are not allowed to see short-term futures," Tuvok said. "Or the short-term past," Kjanders said.

"This is important?" Chakotay asked.

"It prevents fiscal speculation through timeea"...Tuvok said. "It also prevents a person from killing his own grandfather and all the other standard time paradoxes. In other words, when these people get in 93 ships, they only move at five-hundred-thousand-year jumps exactly." "That seems quite important," Janeway said. "No wonder your people protect it so ferociously. What happens to someone who jumps inside a PeriodThat' "In school they used a metaphor to describe the ships. The metaphor is Caxton's and clearly dated, but it might work for you. Since he belonged to a society that looked at PlanetHopping-was "PlanetHopping?" Chakotay asked.

Kjanders shrugged. "That's what your form of travel is called. It's not very well understood anymore.

Janeway suppressed a sigh. She understood her officers' fascination-she shared it-but the more she discovered from Kjanders, the more she understood what deep trouble her away team was in. "Continue, Mr. Kjanders." "Oh, yes. As I was saying, since his society is similar to yours you might appreciate his description. He said each ship is set to run on rails between time Periods. There are no rails, of course, but he was trying to explain the new form of travel to a culture that rode on rails to a prescribed destination every day." No physical rails. Janeway stored that knowledge for Carey. But some sort of predetermined destination system existed.

"Since each ship is set to run a strict line between time Periods, travel inside a single Period is very, very rare and only possible by Control." Kjanders glanced around at his three-member audience and then 94 focused again on Janeway. "I haven't heard of anyone, doing it in my lifetime, but I do know that the punishment is death. I'm sorry." "Death!" Janeway said. She had had a feeling about this. "That would be logical," Tuvok said. He looked into Janeway's startled gaze. "Anyone jumping within a Period would have the opportunity of causing paradoxes or altering the time line enough to destroy the entire culture." Kjander's nodded.

"It's what is taught as basic in the earliest classes in our schools. To us jumping outside of Period is so unthinkable as to almost not be imaginable.

In fact, just suggesting it is a code violation.

When your crew showed up it caused quite a stir and then when they tried to escape they got themselves into even more problems." "How?" Janeway asked, almost afraid to hear the gnswer. "They refused to go peacefully with a Time Control guard, so when they tried to escape back to the shuttle that brought them, they caused a Time Alarm." "A Time Alarm." "Time Control guards were forced to jump in time to a point right before they got to the ship. Causing a Time Alarm is also punishable by death." "But you saw them alive?" Janeway asked.

Kjanders nodded. "When I left they were being escorted to Mean Time Control for Period Eighteighty-nine. My guess is they will be taken from there to Mean Time Control Headquarters." "When would that be?" Tuvok said.

"It's in Real Time in the First Period," Kjanders said. The equation actually formed in Janeway's head. Her crew existed (889 X 500,000) plus 300,000 years in the past.

"That's four hundred forty four million years," she said, almost to herself. She couldn't fathom that number. It was little more than a collection of zeros to her.

Tuvok let his templed hands fall to the table.

He leaned toward Kjanders. "You seem quite calm for a man who accidentally wandered into a death sentence." Kjanders looked up at Tuvok, startled.

"I assume you fall under the same regulations as our colleagues." "Yes," Kjanders said, "but I'm not on Alcawell anymore. Control can "t come up here." Chakotay shot a knowing look at Tuvok.

"Is that why you're here, Mr. Kjanders? To escape Control?" "You brought me to the ship." Kjanders set down his fork. "I guess I have been remiss. A man really should say thank you to the people who have saved his life."

IF TORRES HADN'T KNOWN SHE HAD GONE OVER FOUR HUNDRED million years into the past, she wouldn't have been able to tell at first glance. The shuttle doors opened into a shuttlebay remarkably similar to the one so far away in the future.

"You folks don't really have an eye for interior decoration, do you?" Neelix said to the guard who brought them here. The guard, as usual, ignored him.

Kim stepped out of the shuttle last. He glanced at Torres, the panic making his dark eyes shine.

Yet his posture was straight, his bearing firm, as if he were getting off a Starfleet shuttle near an Earth base. The original guard led them down the ramp. The other guards followed. Torres expectdd the air to taste different or the temperature to be different, but the 97 underground caverns felt the same as before. The air had the taste of processing and the heat was turned up a bit too high. A woman waited for them at the bottom of the ramp. She had purple hair piled in a cone that extended a meter and a half.

Fortunately she had some distance between its tip and the ceiling. She wore a formfitting outfit of a shiny white material, and her purple shoes had pointy bases an eighth of a meter high.

Jewelry sparkled in her hair.

"I'll take it from here," she said to the first guard.

"You'll get a commendation for this. I've already put it in your record." "Thanks, Cwaner," the guard said. He nodded to the other orange suits and they climbed back into the shuttle.

"You'd better get off the ramp," Cwaner said to Torres, Kim, and Neelix. "Unless you want to be slammed into the shuttle when they return to Eighteighty-nine." Torres led them off the ramp onto the hard floor. Cwaner looked perfectly balanced on her absurd shoes. "Welcome to Mean Time Control Headquarters. I am Cwaner, assistant to Rawlik. He will be examining your case." "Will he be able to help us?" Kim asked.

"Help-T" Cwaner smiled. "Yours is not to ask for help, but to be grateful for any kindnesses you receive," "It's not in my nature to be grateful when I am about to be punished," Torres snapped.

Kim touched her arm. Neelix bobbed up and down at the woman as if he were trying to mollify her.

"Your headpiece," he said, speaking faster than usual, "reminds me of a spectacular headpiece I saw on an excursion seventeen years ago.

It had precious jewels and a bit of gold woven through it, but it was white and not nearly as tall as yours.

Do you dye it or can you find that color in nature?" Cwaner raised a slender, eight-fingered hand to her hair. "It's an experiment," she said. "Do you like it? Rawlik said he preferred the blue." "The purple brings out your eyes," Neelix said. She smiled. "You should gave your charm for Rawlik." "Will it do us any good?" Torres asked.

Cwaner shrugged. "Not much can hurt you at this point." She led them out of the shuttlebay into a long corridor that matched the one they had seen in Period 889. This corridor, though, was filled with flowering plants. Some had bright blue buds, others had black buds. their odor was rich and pungent, reminding Torres of ointment her Klingon mother used to use to polish her breastplates.

The corridor led into an office complex filled with more flowering plants, desks, and people wearing tight variations of Cwaner's outfit. The shoes and hair were the most outrageous parts. It seemed that anything that made it impossible to walk was popular here.

Cwaner rapped on what looked like a stone wall three times with the knuckles of her right hand. The 99 wall slid open, revealing an office almost half the size Qf the main room. One man sat behind a long black desk. He appeared to be in his late twenties. He had brown hair that touched his collar, a mustache, and, surprisingly, eyewear.

Computers, scattered papers, and stacks of 2-D photographs covered the surrounding tables.

The chairs were a bright blue. Cwaner's hair clashed with the entire room. There were'no plants in here, but there were many books, antique volumes that gave the room the smell of aging paper. "Thanks, C-C," Rawlik said. His voice was soft.

She nodded in acknowledgment and backed out the door.

Torres waited until the door snicked shut before she launched herself at the desk. She planted both hands on it and leaned toward Rawlik. "I am tired of people who can't help me, who quote regulations I have never heard of, and who accuse me of a crime when I am speaking according to my native custom." Rawlik took off his eyewear, rubbed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, a small grin playing on his face. "Welcome to Period One," he said. "I am not welcome. I do not feel welcome. And I don't want your greetings," Torres said.

Kim touched her arm. "Relax," he said.

She shook him off. Time for going with this idiocy was through. "You look like someone important," she said.

"I want to know if you can return us to our ship.

"That would be the PlanetHopping ship in orbit over the central station in Period Eighteighty-nine?" Rawlik spoke with a slight drawl, choosing his words carefully.

"Our ship doesn't hop," Torres said. The anger she had been storing was seeping out the edges.

Perhaps the thought of her Klingon mother had sent her over the edge. "It flies. Through space. From what I can tell we've comhardly moved a kilometer in physical distance. I do not like traveling through time.

Send us back to our ship and we will not trouble you again." "I would like to," Rawlik said. He set his eyewear on the desk dangerously close to Torres's fists. The eyewear was tiny gold frames around clear lenses. "However, I can't.

Please sit." "Lieutenant," Kim said. "B'Elanna.

Please. Let's do as he says." Torres resisted the urge to snarl at the man. She sat at the edge of the nearest chair, ready to spring up at the slightest provocation. "All right," she said.

"Tell me why you can't send us back." "Frankly-Lieutenant?-you're lucky to be here at all. Control's Central Counsel will be reviewing your case because you are PlanetHoppers.

Let me point out that is a good thing. Usually citizens who break these laws are captured and punished without recourse." "We had no idea weeawere breaking any laws when we arrived here, and we're still not certain which laws were broken," Torres said. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of understanding as long as you let us return to our ship." "I'm afraid ignorance of the law is no excuse," 101 Rawlik said. "And I can do nothing about that. Nor can I return you to your ship. I can, however, answer any questions you might have." Questions? Torres had a thousand of them. She was about to ask one when Neelix grinned and opened his hands in his small conciliatory way. "They keep mentioning punishment," Neelix said. "Now, I don't know about you, but as far as I'm concerned that word is a bit unpleasant. Perhaps if we knew what we were facing we might be able to temper our behavior to something appropriate for your culture." Rawlik touched his computer screen. "It says here that you have at least one eighthundred violation, two four-hundred violations-was "They said they were going to waive those!" Neelix. said. 4"-and a possible six-hundred violation." Rawlik sighed.

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