"Not quite anything. From its position in the computer's file tree, I'd say it's most likely sensor logs."

"Can we decrypt them?" Both men knew he didn't really mean we. we.

"If you can get the workstations online with those new screens and the power grid we already installed, they should replay perfectly well here on Intrepid." Intrepid."

"I can do that," La Forge said firmly, and moved across to the science station, where he began moving circuits around. "The main viewer should be online in a second." True to his word, the recently repaired screen flickered, buzzed, and then showed the Challenger, Challenger, hovering nearby. "There we go," he whispered. "Can you feed that log, or whatever it is, through to here?" hovering nearby. "There we go," he whispered. "Can you feed that log, or whatever it is, through to here?"

"I think so."

After a moment, the main viewer flashed to static again, and then a man appeared on it. The image was grainy, with pixel artifacts running up and down the recording, but it was unmistakably a blond-haired man in a blue jumpsuit. "Jason," "Jason," a voice said from somewhere. " a voice said from somewhere. "What's troubling the Intrepid?" Intrepid?"

"That must be Captain Lambert," Rasmussen said, his astonishment clear in his voice. "And the voice we heard is Admiral Collins."

"Romulan mines, Admiral," Lambert began. Lambert began. "Lieutenant al-Qatabi is transmitting our position back to you now. We've observed the detonation of a Cla.s.s Four cloaked mine, about thirty thousand clicks away. Harry is looking out to see whether there are any more-" "Lieutenant al-Qatabi is transmitting our position back to you now. We've observed the detonation of a Cla.s.s Four cloaked mine, about thirty thousand clicks away. Harry is looking out to see whether there are any more-"

"They don't usually go solo," Collins said with a sigh. Collins said with a sigh. "There's probably a field." "There's probably a field."

La Forge found he was glued to the screen. It was as if they were really having this conversation right here, and right now. At the same time, he was very glad that this was only a recording, because he already knew how it ended.

Lambert nodded. "I wanted to check with you whether there had been any communication from the Rommies that might throw a light on the mines here. For one, how does their presence tie in with the new treaty?" "I wanted to check with you whether there had been any communication from the Rommies that might throw a light on the mines here. For one, how does their presence tie in with the new treaty?" Rasmussen looked as if he was seeing a ghost. Rasmussen looked as if he was seeing a ghost.

"Well, under the terms of the armistice, they agreed to disable any mines in disputed territories specified in the treaty, and that certainly includes your location." Admiral Collins paused. Admiral Collins paused. "The detonation wasn't near enough to you to do any damage?" "The detonation wasn't near enough to you to do any damage?"

"No, sir, but it's still brown trousers time knowing they're out there." La Forge couldn't disagree with Lambert's sentiment. La Forge couldn't disagree with Lambert's sentiment.

"Sirs," a pretty Eurasian girl, presumably al-Qatabi, broke in. a pretty Eurasian girl, presumably al-Qatabi, broke in. "Some types of mines are given a finite life span, and others have had remote detonators for decommissioning after a conflict. Is it possible that what we've seen here is actually part of the process the Romulans are using to disable their mines? We know they'd rather destroy their materiel than let us take it." "Some types of mines are given a finite life span, and others have had remote detonators for decommissioning after a conflict. Is it possible that what we've seen here is actually part of the process the Romulans are using to disable their mines? We know they'd rather destroy their materiel than let us take it."

"I'll have the diplomatic corps see if they can get a response out of the Romulans," Collins said, Collins said, "as to whether this is actually a decommissioning act." "as to whether this is actually a decommissioning act."

"It better be," Lambert grumbled. Lambert grumbled. "We've all got enough medals already, and if Johnny Archer earns any more, his dress uniform will collapse under their gravity." "We've all got enough medals already, and if Johnny Archer earns any more, his dress uniform will collapse under their gravity."

"I'll tell him you said that. In the meantime I suggest you mark the limits of the field."

"I'll get Harry on to it. Unless you want to send Enterprise Enterprise out here to do it, and we'll out here to do it, and we'll-" The screen went black so suddenly that La Forge rocked on his heels as if he had felt an impact. He looked across at the other people on the bridge. The other engineers looked as if they'd stepped off a cliff, and Rasmussen was looking pale and shaky.

"d.a.m.n," Rasmussen whispered. "They showed it so many times, on all the news feeds." He shook his head. "I never watched someone die before they showed that."

"You didn't know for sure that he, or anyone else aboard, was dead," Geordi said reasonably.

"Not intellectually, no," Rasmussen admitted. "But in our hearts, everyone who saw it knew. Romulans . . ."

"We know it wasn't the Romulan mine," Geordi pointed out. "The ship's still here."

"I bet they were still behind it somehow."

When Rasmussen had gone across to the Intrepid Intrepid with the newly replicated replacement parts, Brahms had taken her chance to catch some lunch in Nelson's. She could have eaten from the replicator in her quarters, but she was hoping to talk to Guinan. It was easy to talk to Guinan, even about things she thought she wouldn't normally talk about aloud. with the newly replicated replacement parts, Brahms had taken her chance to catch some lunch in Nelson's. She could have eaten from the replicator in her quarters, but she was hoping to talk to Guinan. It was easy to talk to Guinan, even about things she thought she wouldn't normally talk about aloud.

"I know Geordi can be a little obsessive, but I never thought he could be vindictive."

Guinan frowned, a rare and rather sad vision. "Vindictive? I don't think I've ever seen him vindictive."

"You haven't seen the way he looks at Rasmussen, or heard the way he talks about him."

"Ah, Rasmussen . . ." There was a long story in her tone. Leah might not be a Listener like Guinan, but she knew the signs when she heard them.

"You know what I'm talking about?"

Guinan blinked slowly. "Unfortunately I do. I was on the Enterprise Enterprise when Rasmussen visited, and I remember him pretty well." when Rasmussen visited, and I remember him pretty well."

"He is a memorable person."

"In all the wrong ways."

Brahms was disappointed by Guinan's tone. Of all the people she thought would understand, Guinan topped the list. "Not you as well?"

"Rasmussen stole from a lot of my friends. He tried to kidnap Commander Data. He pretended he could help save a planet under threat but was refusing to do so."

"He couldn't have actually helped."

"No, he couldn't, because he wasn't from the future. He could just have said he didn't know what happened. Even if he wanted to stick with his story about being from the future, he could have said it wasn't his field, or the records had been lost, or something. But he seemed to take a great pleasure in giving the appearance of being happy to refuse to use knowledge."

"You seem to be suggesting that if he had been from the future, and did know what happened, he'd have been right to refuse."

"Yes, he would. But he wasn't."

"Do you think I should stay away from him?"

Guinan hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't think he's cruel or violent. He's a thief, but I couldn't see him deliberately harming anyone."

"And Commander Data?"

"I'm pretty sure that, from Rasmussen's perspective, he was stealing, not kidnapping. He just saw Data as an invention, not as a person."

"Thanks, Guinan."

"For what?"

"I'm not sure yet," Leah admitted.

"If I wasn't seeing this with my own eyes, I would never have believed it," Scotty breathed.

"That's exactly what I thought, Scotty," La Forge agreed. He, Barclay, and Brahms were in the lab that had been set up aboard the runabout Thames, Thames, reporting on the data recovered from reporting on the data recovered from Intrepid Intrepid's computer core. "In fact I almost wonder if it couldn't be some kind of modern fake, like Worf thought."

"Placed there how? Intrepid Intrepid's files have been bricked for centuries," Brahms said.

"If Rasmussen was an expert in quantum slipstream mechanics, I'd wonder if he couldn't have somehow introduced these readings while we were bringing the sensor logs online."

"But he isn't."

"No, and the date stamps all match up perfectly."

"Slipstream, but not slipstream . . . I've never seen anything quite like this," Scotty said. "It could be natural, or it could be artificial . . ."

"Either way, it's definitely worth thinking about."

Scotty nodded. "Aye . . . I don't know which idea is worse, it bein' natural, or it bein' artificial. Leah and I worked on the Vesta Vesta-cla.s.s test-beds-but if this data truly was artificial, it'd have to be far beyond . . . Is there anything more like this in Intrepid Intrepid's files?"

"We're downloading and decoding as much as we can, now that Rasmussen has gotten us into the system, but there are a lot of corrupt files," La Forge said.

"Do your best."

Scotty and Barclay left the lab, and La Forge looked at the data again. "It looks like Rasmussen has actually done us some good."

"Is that so surprising?" Brahms asked. "Starfleet did did a.s.sign him for a reason." a.s.sign him for a reason."

"I guess they did. I still don't have to like him, though."

"He may have been a liar and a thief, but he doesn't seem violent."

"He kidnapped my friend at gunpoint," La Forge said hotly.

"Ineffectually," she reminded him.

"He didn't know that. Besides, there's the matter of how he got that time pod in the first place."

"How did he get it?"

"I don't know," Geordi admitted, "but the implication was that its original owner was in no condition to use it again."

"You mean he's dead. Was dead. Will be dead, if he's from the twenty-sixth century . . ." Brahms groaned and rubbed her temples. "Whichever."

"I mean there's a good sized doubt over how Rasmussen came into possession of the pod. There's a very good chance that he may have murdered that professor from the twenty-sixth century."

"But you don't know that."

"Data thought that Rasmussen was implying it, when he tried to kidnap him. And Data wasn't p.r.o.ne to flights of fancy."

Outside, Rasmussen had been about to go in and enjoy the credit for discovering the sensor logs, when he heard the conversation turn to his previous life.

He had never forgotten the professor whose time pod he had inherited, and he never would.

He hadn't forgotten much about those days.

It wasn't for want of trying.

9.

The leaves were turning red and gold in Trenton, and Berlinghoff Rasmussen was starting to notice a slight chill in the air at nights. The days were still almost warm enough for summer, so he preferred to work in his garage, with the big door rolled open.

That was where he preferred to work, but in general he preferred to be either down in the riverside park, or lunching at The Hidden Panda, The Hidden Panda, where the bar was as relaxed and filled with as much variety as the Chinese menu was. As his new molecular cutter sliced through another neoprene square, Rasmussen felt like he was about thirty seconds from going there and drowning his sorrows as well as, hopefully, feeding his muse. where the bar was as relaxed and filled with as much variety as the Chinese menu was. As his new molecular cutter sliced through another neoprene square, Rasmussen felt like he was about thirty seconds from going there and drowning his sorrows as well as, hopefully, feeding his muse.

The device was basically a tubular laser-cutter, intended to use a reactive plasma as part of the cutting torch. He had a test object, made of layered steel, neoprene, plastic, and Kevlar, mounted on a frame in the center of the garage. In theory the cutter should slice through the metal only, and not through the materials used in EV suits for s.p.a.ce walks. It would therefore be safer to use while wearing an EV suit.

That was the theory. In practice, the d.a.m.ned thing would cut through anything, and he couldn't quite figure out how to tune it to the right molecular structures. He tried again, with a new setting and new test object. The cutter burned through it all, and the test object clattered to the floor in two halves.

Rasmussen felt his shoulders slump, and he dropped the cutter back onto the worktop. He wondered whether perhaps he should start calling it the flop-top. He sat down and glared at the prototype. "Lunch. We'll see what we can do with you after lunch."

In a few minutes, he was walking across a small green park toward The Hidden Panda, The Hidden Panda, occasionally glancing up at the shuttlepods that came and went from the university's transport pool. Those were exactly the sort of vehicles that his devices should be installed aboard. occasionally glancing up at the shuttlepods that came and went from the university's transport pool. Those were exactly the sort of vehicles that his devices should be installed aboard.

A few comnet pads were dotted around on The Hidden Panda The Hidden Panda's tables and in booths, all keyed to only function inside the establishment. Rasmussen glanced at a couple as he came in, without picking one up. Most of the headlines were about the state of the economy in the wake of the Romulan War, and the resurgence in exploratory missions. Stories about the appointments to Federation posts barely rated a sidebar.

Jo was at the center bar when he entered, and he was glad to see her. The day didn't seem so bad when she smiled at him. "Hi, B.R. The whatsit still not working?"

"How did you know?"

"You only come in here at this hour when something's gone wrong with it."

"Oh, bravo. Well observed, Holmes, now rack 'em up."

"The usual?"

"Yeah, the usual."

She slid a cappuccino and a bourbon across to him. As usual, Jo had the Federation News Service on above the bar. Some talking head was beaming brightly, as she told everyone, "In Federation news, the Vulcan Science Council has announced a review into the possibility of whether time travel might someday become possible. In concert with representatives from Earth and Tellar-" "In Federation news, the Vulcan Science Council has announced a review into the possibility of whether time travel might someday become possible. In concert with representatives from Earth and Tellar-"

"Time travel," Jo echoed, shaking her head. Rasmussen didn't notice so much as a single gray hair, and he'd been looking for them as long as he'd been coming here. "First thing I'd do with a time machine is go back to my bachelorette party and give myself a ticket to somewhere a long way from New Jersey. You know what I mean, B.R.?"

Berlinghoff Rasmussen knew exactly what she meant. He had met Jo's husband. "If it was me, I'd put money on a lot of World Cup games. Always helps with the travel funds." He smiled at the thought.

Jo laughed. "Good thinking, my man. Good thinking." She slid Rasmussen a cappuccino without being asked. "Oh, the buffet'll be starting in about ten minutes, if you're interested."

"It is one of the two reasons I come here." He caught himself, fearing he'd said too much.

"That thing you're working on being the other?"

"There's no thing," he said, putting a finger to his lips, and tapping the side of his nose. "Not yet, anyway, but hopefully in a couple of days, always a.s.suming our new uber-government doesn't find someone else working on the same thing first."

"Uber-government? Oh, you mean the Federation. I don't think they're in charge of New Jersey . . . just offworld."

"You say that now, but . . ." He brightened, and laughed. "It's better than having new Romulan overlords."