Part 6 ~ Epilogue~ ~~~ No More Buttons to Press ~~~       She threw her head back and gargled, clicking her mandibles and hissing in disgust, then spitting. Another swig of the blue liquid, more gargling, more spitting. Her companion stood propped against the navigation console of the ship, shaking her head and laughing.       The vessel itself was a tidy, little thing, a soft undulating triangle of pearly blue. The bow contained the obligatory front port window that humans seemed to prefer. A curious set of globes hung in stasis in front of a rather ordinary console. It was against this console that the tall brunette leaned. Beneath her bare feet nestled the retractable variable seating units, with imbedded species sensors dark and inactive as yet. To the left of the console was a wall panel displaying an active systems check currently keyed in Earth Standard script. But for that one twinkling panel, all others were dark.       The woman was wearing a uniform that seemed designed more for comfort than style. It was smoky gray in color, loose about the seat and breasts, tucked in at the waist and sporting pockets, not only along the pants, but on the sleeves as well. There were no identifying marks on the uniform but for a badge of some type. The badge bore a vague resemblance to an old Federation IDIC but sleeker and thicker, with tracings of script and circuits etched all over its concave surface. In the hollow of that surface floated three tiny holographic globes, tiny replicas of the ones floating above the navigation console. The woman looked over at the wall panel, turned to adjust one of the globes, then checked the panel again.       The only other activity on the ship came from Queenie in the hygiene alcove tucked into a back corner. It was barely large enough to accommodate the Tholian's body. Gone were her ribbons and flowers. Instead she wore a double segmented vest-like garment in the same smoky color as her companion's. Queenie also wore a badge, but hers sported a narrow bar at the bottom in addition to the holographic globes. She stopped her gargling long enough to spit, "If I never have to drink another cup of coffee again it will be too soon."       The other woman laughed again, "I'll recommend you for a medal, you poor, long suffering bug, you."       "Humph! She never called me a bug."       "Yes, but I never made you drink coffee."       "Good point. So, why did they send you to fetch me? I thought you'd been promoted beyond Pilot with your last assignment."       "Proprietary interest. He *was* my last assignment. I requested this run."       "Ah, so that's how it is. Tell me, is he as compelling a person as she is? From what she told me about him, he sounds like a philandering idiot, though she doesn't seem to think so."       The brunette laughed, "He is bit of an idiot, but of the sweetest and most endearing kind. He has a loving heart. It isn't so much that he philanders, he just has to love, it's his nature. And if he can't be with the one he loves...."       "He loves the one he's with? Oh, come on."       "Well, not quite like that. He forms deep, loving relationships...or at least he did with me. But there is some part of him that is always searching for her, trying to connect. During the day, I could have sworn that he'd put his love for her in the past. I think he would have too, but at night, in his sleep, he'd cry and call out for her. The closer we came to the change, the stronger this would be and the stronger he'd become. It was almost as if he took on more definition, lost some fuzzy edges, had more...I don't know quite how to describe it."       "Ah, my little protégé. I see you are beginning to be able to feel the 'woof'." Queenie gave an amused clicking, chuckle at her companion's blank look and launched into an impromptu lecture. "The vocabulary of weaving translates very well into describing aspects of temporal mechanics. Just as the 'woof' can be described as the filling thread of a tapestry, that which provides texture and presents the basic or essential element of the material, so the 'woof' of a time tapestry will present the basic nature of that tapestry. The more closely one looks into a specific strand, the more important it is to sense the 'woof' of the thing, as a whole. When one looses that sense of 'woof', then any extrapolation made also looses that essential truth of the whole tapestry and at some point, if one acts on that extrapolation, instead of guiding the design, it becomes unraveled. Just look at what that madman Braxton did to this one. I had serious doubts that we'd ever be able to see it repaired. Why the powers ever decided to let that core of engineers anywhere near a tapestry as delicate as this one, is beyond me."       "I imagine because of it's importance. You know how they are about the big projects."       "I certainly do," Queenie continued. "But this really falls into the realm of 'Psytem'."       "Oh? I thought we got the project on default because the both of them are so daffy...and because Braxton went off into Temporal Psychosis so much sooner than we humans usually do and really tangled the timeline. I know I haven't been with the department for long, but I've got to admit I don't understand why you are involved in a repair operation. Even with their propensity for time travel, what is it about these two that rates them having the Master Weaver of 'Psytem' as their own personal guardian angel?"      Queenie chuckled, "Actually my dear, they get me because, if my hypothesis is correct, they are going to be an extremely stable unit."       The brunette's mouth dropped open, "You're joking! Those two? You are drafting those two? She's a manic depressive with suicidal tendencies who does repression as an art form, and he's an emotional and intellectual lightweight who alternates between impulsive, ill thought out action and being so laid back one has to check his pupils to make sure he hasn't slipped into a coma. How do you get stable out of that?"      Queenie let out another series of amused clicks, "Fire up the time tapestry my dear, and sit back and learn."      The tapestry filled the cabin of the small ship, it's holographic lines pulsing and flowing around them. Twinkling nodes, like beaded stars, connected the major strands. Queenie traced along one tiny filament from the dawn of human history, then pointed out another and traced it. The strands were converging, but at almost infinitesimal increments, each becoming more luminescent and prominent, the closer they came to the nexus. Where they joined, a node shone brilliantly and myriad other strands bent toward it, some to run parallel, others crossing, still others joining for awhile and splitting off again and a few remaining in the weave. Not far from the nexus point the strand became diffused and lost definition. An entire segment of the tapestry was occluded, nothing could be read. Strands seemed to emerge from the diffused area, separating again and pulling away from each other, then turning back again, drawn, as if by gravity, then separate again, then together. Finally, the two major strands could be seen at the edges of the occluded area, one heading 'oblique quadrant 7x3a6f delta' and the other 'acute 9y1s6g omega'. Queenie pointed to the occlusion. "That is where our dear Major Braxton first stuck in his ever so subtle nose." She highlighted were the two lines began to arc back toward each other. "And here is where I enter the picture."      Her companion paused the display at this point. "Now, this is confusing. Am I missing something? For the life of me, I can't see our signature on those arcs."      "Did you leave a signature when you were with him?"       "Of course not. But that was different. I wasn't supposed to change anything. My job was just to keep him from forming any relationships that would dissipate his focus on his mission and observe his thought processes."      "And you had a unique and...stimulating way of doing that too," said Queenie, clicking merrily. "You certainly did seem to enjoy your work."      The brunette grinned back at her, "Well, the sex was a perk. He's rather good at it. Besides that non-fraternization policy went out with dilithium powered warp drives." She turned back to the display, "I know your reputation for subtlety is legendary, but where is it, what did you do?"       "I observed....and I held her hand as she found her own way back. She could has just rested on her laurels or slid down in despair, and both were extremely compelling to her, but she pulled away, took stock and grew. Sometimes, the best way to deal with these things is just to have faith that, if it was meant to be, it will be."      "And you believe these two were meant to be. Well, isn't that nice for them. My next question is...So what? Why are they so important?"      "Because, I think, together, they are the answer to the temporal psychosis problem."      "You are joking?"      "No, I'm not. How many time lines can most humans stand? Three? Four at the most? Even after the second, unless extreme measures are taken: inoculations, skin bubbles, staying in the ships, intensive temporalpsychotherapy, we've lost the operative. You have more resistance than most but they are extraordinary! They've had no help at all and look how they've managed. And what's more, I think they can manipulate the line with no technical help at all."      "That's impossible!"      "No, it's not and what's more, I think they will figure out what's going on. He's already figured out some of it and she is so intuitive that, when she sees the math, she's bound to make the connection. Well, we ought to find out soon. If I'm right, we should be able to observe the change as it happens." Queenie keyed the seating unit and lowered herself into the cradle with a sigh, "But, if I'm wrong, it's over, right here. There are no more buttons to push."             ~~~part 7 - Prologue: Rock and Roll~~~         Home          Stories