by Dayton Ward
Roberta scowled at that. “What? Are you saying someone’s trying to get into your systems from outside?” So far as she knew, the advanced supercomputer was supposed to be immune from any sort of remote infiltration, with the obvious exception of Gary Seven’s Aegis superiors. “Could it be Gary?”
“Negative. Program initiation occurred within my own framework. I am executing a diagnostic procedure.” Several moments passed while the computer worked on its own, leaving Roberta to stare at the array of status monitors and other indicators. Finally, it said, “I have located the program source. It is an encrypted software protocol in an archival directory of my secondary memory core. Program has not been accessed since its installation on June 13, 1968.”
“Who put it there?” Roberta asked. “Seven?”
“There is nothing to indicate this program was created or installed by Supervisor 194,” said the Beta 5. “Data found in my archives suggests another, possibly unauthorized source. I find no record of this protocol’s installation or execution.” It fell silent for a moment, its inner mechanisms processing as it continued to investigate this apparent breach. “Additional data recovered from protected archives. On March 29, 1968, my sensors were used to scan a vessel in orbit above Earth. Five days later, two individuals were transported from here to that spacecraft.”
“Five days?” Roberta frowned. “The Enterprise wasn’t here five days later. It returned to its own time.”
“Affirmative.”
“Are you saying someone transported from here to the Enterprise, three hundred years in the future? You’re talking about Gary and Isis, right?”
“Negative. Life-forms in question were a Vulcan male and a Certoss female.”
That made Roberta’s eyes widen in surprise. “Certoss? Are you sure?”
“Affirmative. Sensor and bio-scan readings verified.”
It had been a year—going back to that same day she and Gary Seven had encountered the Enterprise, as a matter of fact—since she last had heard that term. Seven had briefed her on some aspects of the trio of enigmatic Certoss aliens pursued by his predecessors and her former employers, Elizabeth Anderson and Ryan Vitali. They had been killed while pursuing one of the Certoss agents, who also had died during that incident, leaving his two companions missing.
“How did one of those . . . whatever the heck they are . . . get in here and into your systems?” Roberta asked.
“Unknown. Unauthorized party likely possessed sufficient engineering and computer application knowledge to bypass my security protocols. All record of their activity has been purged from my security oversight files.” As the Beta 5 spoke, Roberta sensed that the computer seemed almost embarrassed at having to explain its role in this odd situation. “Review of data management processes shows a subspace message transmitted to the planet Certoss Ajahlan, along with subsequent attempt to delete all evidence of this activity from my protected archives. When that action failed, links from the archives to the main system were severed as part of installed software protocol. I only became aware of the discrepancy due to this program’s current execution.”
“The Certoss contacted its own planet?”
“No two-way communication; only the single transmission.”
Roberta shook her head. Trying to comprehend even a small portion of the Beta 5’s accounting of what had taken place within its collection of circuits and relays was beginning to make her eyes glaze over. “Okay, okay! So what’s this new program you found doing now?”
“Attempting to contact the vessel that was in Earth orbit,” replied the computer. “The craft is no longer there, but scans confirm it was the U.S.S. Enterprise.”
“Wait, what?” Robert asked, frowning. “What the heck was the Enterprise doing up there just now? And where did it go?”
“Unknown. Scanners detected transporter activity between the ship and two targets in the Midwestern United States. No other contact or communications. Transporter activity pinpointed: Offutt Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, and an Air Force fighter aircraft flying over the installation.”
This was getting weirder by the second. Why had the Enterprise returned from the future, a year after its last visit? Were Captain Kirk and his crew conducting another of their historical research missions and trying to see how Earth managed to avoid destroying itself for another year? If so, where had it gone? Had it devised some method of hiding even from the Beta 5’s scanners? That made no sense, and why would Kirk not attempt to contact Seven? And what was with the transporter activity to the middle of Nebraska?
“What was transported?”
The Beta 5’s status displays blinked and chirped for several seconds before it replied, “Two human life-forms, one to each location. Identities unknown.”
Closing her eyes, Roberta took a deep breath and tried to reason through what the Beta 5 was trying to tell her. “All right, let’s back this up. One thing at a time. The Enterprise shows up in orbit for reasons unknown, beaming people all over the place, and you try to contact it because of some program you fire up from deep in your guts. The program was put there by a Certoss alien a year ago, after the Enterprise has gone home, but before that happened this Certoss and a . . . a Vulcan? A Vulcan beam to the future, and now they’re on the Enterprise? And after all of that, someone manages to wipe all the fingerprints off all the tampering his friend did here?”
“Essentially correct.”
Wondering what Seven was going to say when he found out about all of this, Roberta reached up to rub her temples as she tried to piece together more of the puzzle. “Did you pick up any transporter beam between here and the Enterprise just now?”
“Negative, though I did detect a burst communications message. The message itself has been purged from my data core, but transmission log is intact. It appears to be an advisory about the Enterprise.”
Now they were on to something. “Where was the message sent?”
“Trenton, New Jersey.”
Her heart racing, Roberta said, “Tell me the message is similar to the one sent to Certoss Ajahlan.”
“An astute observation, Miss Lincoln. The same language was used for both messages.”
“We all get lucky sometimes,” Roberta said. Seven had been attempting to track the movements of the two remaining Certoss agents following the death of their companion last year. Despite his best efforts as well as those of the Beta 5, the trail had gone cold. “The other Certoss, the one who didn’t escape to the Enterprise last year? Maybe he thought he could catch a ride on it or if another ship ever showed up. But, why use you for all of this?” She tapped the console, trying to reason her way through the questions. “Maybe he didn’t have access to communications equipment sophisticated enough to make contact with such a ship, and our transporter would certainly make things easier. Wow, the Certoss had you set up to give them a call for a year. Seven’s going to love this. We need to contact him.” He needed to know everything, from this to the Enterprise’s inexplicable reappearance, and however it all might be connected. Roberta paused, realizing that there was one major obstacle standing in the way of her new idea. “Wait, I don’t even know how to get in touch with him, but you can do that, right?”
The computer said, “Affirmative, but I have been ordered not to do so.”
Roberta blinked several times, sure she had misheard the computer. “What?”
“New file released from my protected archive, per instructions provided by Supervisor 194. I am directed to assist you with the data it contains and help to prepare you for departing on your next assignment.”
Next assignment? What the hell was this pile of scrap metal talking about? “Are you kidding me? Gary’s sending me out alone? Tonight?”
“Affirmative.”
This had to be a joke, Lincoln decided. How could Seven spring something like this on her now, when he was not even on the same planet to provide backup? “What if I screw something up?”
“Supervisor 194 has prepared co
ntingency measures.”
Shaking her head, Roberta rolled her eyes. “Of course he did. Where am I supposed to be going, anyway?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, the Beta 5 replied, “To the U.S.S. Enterprise, in the year 2268.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Trenton, New Jersey
July 10, 1969
Adlar pounded his fist on the console, grunting in frustration. It did not matter how many times he consulted the array of instruments, rechecked their settings, or initiated scans or attempts at communication. The orbiting space vessel was gone.
“How can you be gone?” he asked no one, alone as he was within the loft. Sitting in a high-backed chair before the console his companion Jaecz had constructed to be the focal point of all the equipment gathered in this place, Adlar shook his head in disbelief. The information provided by the makeshift assemblage of components rigged together by Jaecz over the course of years indicated that the ship—identified by the scanner as being of Federation design, which meant it must have traveled here from the future—had appeared in proximity to Earth for the briefest of intervals before vanishing. The scanning equipment also had detected the vessel’s brief use of matter teleportation before its abrupt departure, leaving Adlar still more unanswered questions. What had brought the ship here, to this point in time? Had it been attempting to track him? If so, the efforts of the vessel and its crew seemed to have been ineffective, at best, but this was not what angered Adlar. Instead, his rage was fueled by the knowledge that he had missed the opportunity to take advantage of the ship’s presence in order to escape what had become an interminable sentence of exile on this planet.
More than a year had passed since Jaecz’s death and Gejalik’s disappearance. After escaping from McKinley Rocket Base and pursuit by the Air Force personnel and their mysterious helpers, Adlar had found his way here based on the contingency plan devised years earlier. This hideaway had been the center of Jaecz’s contributions to their joint mission, in which he had used some of the equipment available to him from their original consignment of supplies as the foundation for a hybrid of Certoss and twentieth-century human technology. The loft he had secured as a workspace and hideaway was crammed to the rafters with all manner of electrical components and their associated wiring. Pieces obtained from large, bulky, and all but useless room-filling computer systems that were the pinnacle of current human information processing machines took up much of the available floor space, with one wall devoted to a bank of magnetic tape drives used for data storage and retrieval.
Despite his familiarity with most of the equipment collected here, it still had taken him weeks to acquaint himself with the functionality of the different components. Jaecz, in typical fashion, had anticipated that eventuality, and Adlar had found his detailed notes. It was due in large part to this set of comprehensive instructions that Adlar had been able to determine that Gejalik had used the scanning system just after his last contact with her. A review of the logs comprising the bulk of Jaecz’s data storage library revealed that he had uncovered the existence of humans possessing technology far more advanced than anything that should be present on Earth during this time period. His scanners had pinpointed the location of this unusual equipment in New York City, and Jaecz even had managed to develop a covert means of infiltrating the other party’s computer.
Adlar was stunned to discover these humans also had at their disposal a matter teleportation system, and it was this device that Gejalik had activated and used to send herself—and another party, a Vulcan, according to the data logs—to an unknown location that somehow was linked to the arrival of a Federation starship in Earth orbit during the previous year. The vessel’s presence corresponded to the unraveling of the operation Adlar and his companions had been conducting at McKinley and the destruction of the rocket bearing the secret nuclear weapons platform. The data records were unclear as to whether Gejalik had transported to that ship or some other location, and though Jaecz’s own equipment was incapable of replicating this feat, Adlar had installed a program in the other, more advanced computer to monitor the other system for signs of the vessel’s return. Fearful of having his own activities detected by the odd humans and their unexplained technology, Adlar had left the monitoring process to run undisturbed, trusting in its programmed response to alert him of any changes in its status. He would wait until that ship or one like it was detected, then travel to the humans’ headquarters in an attempt to duplicate the steps executed by Gejalik to carry her from this place.
One such opportunity had presented itself today, with the same Federation vessel from a year ago appearing in orbit above Earth, and Adlar had not been ready.
Fool!
Grunting in exasperation as he pushed himself from the console, Adlar once more chastised himself for not being able to act on the ship’s appearance. How long might he have to wait for another visit from such a vessel? What if none ever again came? He was tired, not only of the mission that he had come to see as an exercise in futility but also from being forced to live here, trapped centuries from everything and everyone about whom he cared. With Gejalik gone and Jaecz dead, he was alone, with no support system for continuing any efforts at undermining human technological advancement. They had failed here, and there was no way to know if—beyond the gulf of time separating him from home—his planet and its people remained embroiled in endless conflict or had at last found peace.
A bright yellow indicator on one of the control console’s banks of monitoring gauges began flashing, accompanied by a sharp pinging tone. It took Adlar a moment to recall what the signal represented, but then he felt anxiety grip him as realization struck.
Someone was attempting to enter the loft.
• • •
“This place is incredible.”
Standing in the middle of the loft, compact Type I phaser in hand, Kirk could not help being impressed as he beheld the hodgepodge collection of computer and other electronic equipment. He had been in control rooms on remote colony outposts and even a few Starfleet installations that did not boast this much hardware.
Spock, having positioned himself before the U-shaped console that seemed to be the hub of the entire affair, was scanning the setup with his tricorder. “It is a remarkable achievement, particularly given the primitive technology with which the Certoss operatives were forced to work. There are some more advanced components embedded in the larger framework, which appear to act as relay junctions and other oversight mechanisms directing the lesser mechanisms.”
“Stone knives and bearskins, Spock?” Kirk asked. Despite their current situation, he was unable to resist the small joke, even if he derived no humor from the attempt. It helped to alleviate the tension he felt as he looked around the room, searching for some sign of Adlar, the remaining Certoss agent.
Spock turned from the console, his right eyebrow raised. “This situation is hardly analogous to the predicament in which you and I found ourselves when we were transported to 1930, Captain. Our arrival in that time period predated the twentieth-century computer age on Earth. Gejalik and her companions benefitted from technological advancements in any number of areas that were still years in the future from our perspective. If our circumstances had brought us to this era, the task I faced would have been far easier to accomplish.”
Keeping his attention divided between his first officer and the rest of the expansive loft, Kirk said, “The Certoss certainly managed well enough.” With his free hand, he loosened the necktie he wore as part of the contemporary ensemble and unbuttoned the top button of his white dress shirt. Like Spock, he wore a dark suit, though the Vulcan’s outfit included a matching fedora to hide his rather nonhuman ears. Gesturing with his phaser to Spock’s tricorder, he asked, “Any sign of Adlar?”
The science officer shook his head. “Negative, though with his personal cloaking shield, he could be masking his life signs.”
“Miss Lincoln said he’d be here.” Kirk did not know how Roberta Lincol
n had come to know that Adlar, the fourth and only surviving member of the quartet of Certoss operatives, would be at this precise point and location in time, but given the resources at her disposal, he was inclined to trust her guidance. She was not here, having briefed Kirk and Spock on their role in helping her address two issues occurring almost at the same time on this date in 1969. Lincoln had offered no details about the other situation, while entrusting the Enterprise officers to capture Adlar with the goal of reuniting him with Gejalik. Like her, Adlar would be an outcast from his own people in the current timeline, but Minister Ocherab already had pledged to take both wayward soldiers into her charge and see to it that they were given a fair opportunity at assimilating into a culture that would be both familiar and alien to them. Kirk did not envy them the road they would have to travel, but it was better than remaining here, trapped on Earth and centuries removed from anything resembling “home.”
It’d be nice not having to worry about the whole “changing our history” bit, too. Indeed, it was not lost on Kirk that today was the same day in Earth history to which the Enterprise had accidentally been hurled through time, where they had met Captain John Christopher and very nearly erased their own future. They had been very lucky to have left behind the twentieth century without inflicting any major changes to the timeline. The longer he and Spock continued to traipse around in Earth’s past while attempting to help Lincoln straighten out the entire Certoss affair, the more Kirk’s concern grew over any possible impacts their presence here might have on history. Neither man needed any reminding of the danger they posed. The slightest action could have unforeseen yet wide-ranging effects on the future, and his anxiety would not ease until they were finished here and returned back to their own time.
“Captain,” Spock said, pointing to one of the banks of control indicators and switches. One of the alert lights was blinking a bright yellow. “According to my scans, this is linked to a series of motion detectors positioned around the building.”