Preserve the mote? What the blazes did that mean?

Riker's fists clenched in frustration. This was like trying to communicate with the Tamarians, before Captain Picard figured out that their language was based entirely on mythological allusions. We rely too d.a.m.n much on our almighty Universal Translator, he thought, so we get thrown for a loop when it runs into problems. He signaled Data to switch off the translation program while he conferred with the others. "'Preserve/defend mote,'" he echoed aloud. "What mote are they talking about? A speck of s.p.a.cedust? A solitary atom?" Could this refer to some primal metaphor, such as the Tamarians employed? What was that old quote about "a mote in your eye" or something?

Or, looking at it from a different angle, couldn't "mote" also be used as a verb? Yes, he recalled, an archaic form of the word "might," as in "So mote it be." Preserve might? Preserve possibilities? Riker's spirit sagged as he considered all the diverse interpretations that came to mind.

"Maybe they don't mean mote," Leyoro suggested, "but moat, as in a circle of water protecting a fortress."

Spoken like a security officer, Riker thought, but maybe Leyoro was on to something here. A moat, a ring of defense...Of course, he realized. "The barrier. The Calamarain don't think in terms of solids, like walls or fences. To them, the galactic barrier is a big moat, circling the entire Milky Way!"

"That is a most logical conclusion," Data observed. "As you will recall, they first attacked when the probe attempted to enter the barrier."

"'Moat abates/attenuates,'" Troi said, repeating the Calamarain's original p.r.o.nouncement. "Perhaps they're referring to the weaknesses in the barrier that Professor Faal detected."

"That makes sense," Riker declared, convinced they had found the answer. He would have to remember to commend Lieutenant Leyoro in his report, a.s.suming they all came out of this alive. "They're protecting the barrier from us. 'No a.s.sistance/release permitted.' Maybe that means they don't want us to escape-or be 'released' from-the galaxy."

That sounds just presumptuous enough to be right, he thought. Lord knows this wouldn't be the first time some arrogant, "more advanced" life-form had tried to enforce limits on Starfleet's exploration of the universe. Just look at Q himself, for instance. It was starting to seem like the Calamarain had a lot in common with the Q Continuum. He glanced sideways at the strange woman and child seated at his own auxiliary command station. She appeared to be flipping through a magazine t.i.tled simply Q, materialized from who-knows-where, while q watched the tempest visible on the viewscreen. The other Q, he recalled, had warned the captain not to cross the barrier. Could it be that Q and the Calamarain had been on the same side all along?

"This might not be the most judicious occasion to argue the point," Data stated with characteristic understatement.

"Shields down to twenty-one percent," Leyoro confirmed.

Riker saw the wisdom in what they were saying. As much as he resented being dictated to by a glorified cloud of hot gas, he was perfectly willing to withdraw from the field of battle this time, provided that the Calamarain could be persuaded to release the Enterprise long enough to let them go home. "Put me through to them again," he instructed Data.

"This is Commander Riker to the Calamarain," he said in a firm and dignified manner. "We respect your concerns regarding the...moat...and will not tamper with the moat at this time. Please permit us to return to our own s.p.a.ce."

The entire bridge, he knew, waited anxiously for the aliens' response. With any luck at all, they would soon be able to abort their mission with no fatalities and only minimal damage to the ship. That's good enough for me, he thought. Any first-contact situation where you could walk away without starting a war was at least a partial success in his book. Besides, for all they knew, the Calamarain had a legitimate interest in the sanct.i.ty of the galactic barrier. That was something for the scientists and the diplomats to work out in the months to come, if the Calamarain proved willing to negotiate.

Right now, he mused, I just want to bury the hatchet so we can concentrate on finding the captain.

Then the voice of the Calamarain spoke again, crushing all his hopes: "Enterprise is/was chaos-haven. Deceit/disorder. No permit trust/mercy/escape. Must preserve/enforce moat. Enterprise is/to be dissipated."

"I do not think they believed you, Commander," Data said.

"I got that impression, Data," Riker affirmed. There was no audible menace in that uninflected voice, but the essence of its message was clear. The Calamarain did not trust them enough to let the ship go free. "Guilt by a.s.sociation," he realized. "All they know about us is that we've harbored Q in the past, shielding him from their retribution. That's what they mean by 'chaos-haven.'They think we're accomplices."

Now, there's a bitter twist of fate, he thought. Will the Enterprise end up paying the price for Q's crimes?

"I don't get it," Ensign Clarze said, scratching his hairless dome. "What do they mean, dissipated?"

Baeta Leyoro translated for the younger, less experienced crewman. "Destroyed," she said flatly. "They intend to destroy the entire ship."

"Touchy creatures," the female Q remarked, sounding quite unconcerned about the starship's imminent obliteration. "I never much cared for them."

Riker was inclined to agree.

Twenty.

The oblong portal shimmered beneath the ice-cold sky. Young Q had not summoned the entire stone framework of the Guardian to 0's Arctic realm, but merely the aperture itself, which hovered above the frozen tundra like a mirage. The same white mist began to seep from the portal, turning to frost as it came into contact with the surface of the snow-covered plain; through the fog, Picard glimpsed the dusty ruins from which they had entered this glacial waste.

"Come along, Picard," Q instructed, heading for the spuming portal. "What transpires next is best witnessed from the other side."

Picard followed without argument. In truth, he would be happy to leave the barren ice behind; even with Q's powers to protect him from the cold, he found this frigid emptiness as desolate and dispiriting as Dante must have found the frozen lake of sinners at the bottom of the Inferno. Still, he had to wonder what was yet to occur. Was the young Q actually going to introduce 0 to Picard's own universe even with everything they didn't know about the mysterious ent.i.ty? Picard, for one, would have liked to know a lot more about what precisely 0 was-and how he came to be stranded amid the drifting snow.

"Aprs vous," the older Q said to Picard, indicating the frothing aperture. Holding his breath involuntarily, Picard rushed through the fog, and found himself back among the dusty wreckage of the ancient ruins surrounding the Guardian of Forever, beneath a sky transformed by luminous time ripples. Moments later, his all-powerful guide emerged from the gateway as well. He joined Picard a few meters away from the Guardian. Their uniforms, Picard noted with both surprise and relief, were totally warm and dry despite their recent exposure to snow and ice. "Now what?" the captain asked.

"Now," Q said glumly, "you get a firsthand view of one of my more dubious achievements."

"One of many, I imagine," Picard could not resist remarking.

"Don't be ill-mannered, Jean-Luc," Q scolded. "I'm reliving this for your benefit, don't forget."

So you say, Picard thought, although he had yet to deduce what exactly Q's youthful exploits, millions of years in the past, had to do with himself or the Enterprise, unless 0 or his heirs somehow posed a threat in his own time. That seemed unlikely given the enormous stretches of time involved, but where Q and his sort were concerned, anything was possible.

"Here I come," Q stated, as his younger self indeed leaped out of the mist. The callow G.o.dling spun around on his heels and looked back the way he had come. Picard was unable to interpret the apprehensive expression on his face. Was the young Q worried that 0 would not be able to follow him through the portal-or that he would?

"Couldn't you have simply closed the door behind you?" Picard asked the other Q.

"Why, Captain," Q answered, looking aghast at the very suggestion, "I'm shocked that you would even propose such a cowardly ploy. That would have hardly been honorable of me, and, as you should know by now, I always play fair."

That's debatable, Picard thought, but saw no reason to press that point right now. Peering past both Q's, he spotted the silhouette of 0's stocky frame appearing within the foggy gateway. He held his breath, antic.i.p.ating the stranger's arrival, but then something seemed to go wrong. Travel through the Guardian had always been instantaneous before, but not for 0 apparently. He strained against the opening as though held back by some invisible membrane. Reality itself seemed to resist his entrance. "Help me," he called out to Q, a single arm stretching beyond the boundaries of the portal. "For mercy's sake, help me!"

The older Q shook his head dolefully, but his earlier incarnation wavered uncertainly. He stepped forward to grip 0's outstretched hand, then hesitated, chewing his lower lip and wringing his hands together. "I don't know," he said aloud.

Perhaps responding to his indecision, the Guardian itself weighed in with its own opinion. "CAUTION," it declared, "FOREIGN ENt.i.tY DOES NOT CONFORM TO ESTABLISHED PARAMETERS FOR THIS PLANE."

"Q!" 0 cried, his face pressed furiously against the membrane, his voice distorted by the strain. "Help me through, will you? I can't do it without you."

"CAUTION," the Guardian intoned. "THE ENt.i.tY DOES NOT BELONG. YOU CANNOT INTERFERE."

"Don't listen to it, Q," 0 urged. His words came through the portal even if his physical form could not. "You can make your own rules, take your own chances. You and me, we're not the kind to play it safe. What's the good of living forever if you never take a risk?"

For a second, Picard entertained the hope that 0 would not be able to break through the unseen forces that held him back. Unfortunately, the Guardian's solemn warnings had exactly the opposite effect on the young Q as intended. "No one tells me what to do," the youthful Q muttered, and in his defiant tone Picard heard uncounted centuries of resentment and stifled enthusiasm, "not Q, not the Continuum, and especially not some moldering keyhole with delusions of grandeur."

Leaving all his doubts behind, he leaped forward and grasped 0's wrist with both hands. "Hold on!" he shouted. "Just give me a second!"

"ENTRY IS DENIED," the Guardian proclaimed. "INTERFERENCE IS NOT PERMITTED."

"Oh, be quiet," 0 urged it, eliciting a bark of laughter from his young, would-be liberator. His face flattened against the invisible barrier that barred his way, 0 kept pushing forward, gaining a millimeter or two. "You can do it, Q. I know you can!"

"You're quite right," Q said, grunting with effort. "I can do anything. And I will." Digging his heels into the dusty ground, he pulled on 0's arm with all his might. Perspiration speckled his brow and the veins on his hands stood out like plasma conduits. Picard tried to imagine the cosmic forces at work behind this facade of human exertion. Despite his better judgment, he had to admire the young being's tenacity and determination. Too bad they weren't being applied to a less questionable purpose....

Smoke poured from the Guardian as it sought to restrain the stranger from beyond, defying the combined strength of both Q and 0. For a few fleeting instants, Picard could actually see the membrane, stretched over 0's thrusting head and shoulders like a layer of adhesive glue and glowing with white-hot energy so intense it made his eyes water. A network of spidery black cracks spread rapidly over the luminescent surface of the membrane and then, with a crash that sounded like a thousand stained-gla.s.s windows collapsing into broken shards, the barrier winked out of existence and 0 came tumbling onto the rubble-strewn ground, knocking Q onto his back.

"What was I thinking of?" the older Q said, looking on mournfully. "Would you have ever guessed I could be arrogant, so rash and presumptuous?"

Picard refrained from comment, more interested in observing the ongoing saga than in engaging in more fruitless banter with Q.

The young Q, exhilarated by his triumph, leaped to his feet, the back of his robe thoroughly dusted with gray powder. He looked no more frosted than Picard or his older counterpart. "Let's hear it for Q," he gloated, shaking his fist at the defeated Guardian, "especially this Q."

0 rose more slowly. Panting and pale, he clambered onto shaky legs and inspected his new surroundings, scowling somewhat at the obvious evidence of age and decay. "Looks like this locality has seen better days," he said darkly. "Please tell me this seedy cemetery is not the celebrated Q Continuum."

"What, this old place?" Q replied. He appeared much more confident now that he was back on familiar ground. "The Continuum exists on a much higher level than this simple material level." He laughed at the other's error. "You have a lot to learn about this reality, old fellow."

"No doubt you'll be happy to show me around," 0 said slyly. He stretched his limbs experimentally, looking mostly recovered from the duress of his transition. His bones cracked like tommyguns in a Dixon Hill mystery. "Ah, but it's good to breathe warm air again, and see something beside that endless, infernal ice." He limped over to Q. "Where to next, young man?"

"Next?" Q scratched his head. His plans had obviously not proceeded that far. Now that 0 had arrived safely, Q looked uncertain what to do with him. "Well, um, there's kind of an interesting spatial anomaly a few systems away. Some ent.i.ties find it amusing." He pointed toward a distant patch of turbulent, rippling sky. "See, over by those quasars there, just past the nebula." He tugged on the fabric of his robe to shake off some of the dust. "Race you there?" he proposed.

"Sounds good to me," 0 agreed, "but I'm afraid it's been a long time since I moved faster than a sunbeam, at least through plain, ordinary s.p.a.ce." He gave his bad leg a rueful pat. "I don't suppose a bright young blade like you knows any convenient shortcuts in this vicinity?"

"A shortcut?" Q mulled the matter over while 0 looked on expectantly, far too keenly for Picard's liking. Bad enough that Q had let this unknown quant.i.ty into reality as he knew it, he didn't want young Q to give 0 free rein throughout the physical universe. Alas, inspiration struck Q, much to Picard's dismay. "The Continuum itself is the ultimate shortcut, linking every time and place in a state of constant, ineffable unity. I'll bet you could use the Continuum to go anywhere you pleased."

"There's an idea!" 0 crowed, slapping Q on the back. "That's positively brilliant. I knew I could count on you." Beneath the silent gaze of the Guardian, 0 circled the young and relatively inexperienced Q like a lion that had just separated an antelope from the herd. "Now then," he said in an insinuating manner, "about this Continuum? I can hardly wait to lay my eyes on such an auspicious establishment." He limped across the arid landscape, conspicuously favoring his weaker leg. "If you don't mind giving me a lift, that is."

"I suppose," Q answered absently, "although I could as easily transport us straight to the anomaly."

"Time enough for that later," 0 a.s.sured him, an edge in his voice belying the courteous phrasing. Was the young Q aware, Picard wondered, of just how intent the stranger was on his goal? 0's single-mindedness was obvious enough to Picard, even if his full motives remained obscure. "The Continuum first, I think."

"Oh yeah, right," Q mumbled, looking around the forlorn ruins. "I suppose there's no reason to stick around here anymore." He cast a guilty, sidelong glance at the brooding edifice of the Guardian, perhaps only now wondering if he really should have heeded the ancient artifact's warnings. "Unless you'd like to look around here some more? There's a nearly intact temple over on the southern continent that was built by some of my direct organic precursors."

"The Continuum will do just fine," 0 insisted. He stopped limping around the other being and lowered his head to look Q directly in the eye. "Now if you please."

Q shrugged, apparently deciding not to cry over spilled interdimensional membranes. "Why not?" he declared, and Picard felt an unaccountable chill run down his spine even though he knew that all of these events had transpired millions of years before his own time. "Get ready to feast your senses on possibly the pinnacle of existence, a plane of reality never before glimpsed by anyone but Q." He summoned an expectant drumroll from the ether. "Q Continuum, here we come!"

Picard saw a wily smile creep over 0's weather-beaten visage an instant before both Q and his new friend departed the abandoned ruins in a single burst of celestial light. He and the older Q were left alone amid the crumbling pillars and shattered stones. "Now what?" Picard asked his self-appointed travel director, although he suspected he knew what was coming next.

Q shrugged. "Whither they goest, we goest." He smirked at Picard. "I'd tell you to hold on to your hat, but I guess Starfleet doesn't go in for snappy headgear." He subjected Picard's new uniform to a withering appraisal. "Pity. One should never underestimate the effectiveness of a stylish chapeau."

"Enough, Q," Picard barked. "You may be immortal, but I am not. Let's get on with this, unless you're afraid to show me just how big a fool you made of yourself."

Q glared at him murderously, and for one or two long moments Picard feared that perhaps he'd finally pushed Q too far. His body tensed up, half-expecting to be hurled into a supernova or transformed into some particularly slimy bit of protoplasm. Just so long as he leaves the Enterprise alone, Picard resolved, prepared to meet his fate with whatever dignity he could muster.

Then, to his surprise, the choler faded from Q's face, replaced by what looked amazingly like a moment of sincere reflection. "Perhaps you're right," he admitted after a time, "and I am stalling unnecessarily." He shook his head sadly. "I'm not particularly enjoying this trip down memory lane."

Picard almost sympathized with Q. With atypical gentleness, at least where Q was concerned, he suggested they continue their journey through the past. "It's a truism with humanity that those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. Perhaps, in your case, reliving your history is the only way we can both learn from it."

"Oh, that's profound, Picard," Q said, regaining some of his usual hauteur. "Very well, let's be on our way, if only to spare me any more of your pedantic cliches."

Why do I even try to treat him like a sane and reasonable being? Picard asked himself silently, but his justifiable irritation could not derail his mixed excitement and alarm at the prospect of actually visiting the Q Continuum for the first time. What could it possibly be like? He couldn't begin to imagine it. Even translated into human a.n.a.logues, as it would surely have to be, he envisioned a wondrous, transcendent realm surpa.s.sing the Xanadu of Kublai Khan or fabled Sha Ka Ree of Vulcan myth and legend. As Q swept them away from the decaying ruins with a wave of his hand, Picard closed his eyes and braced himself for the awesome glory to come.

The reality was not what he expected. He opened his eyes and looked upon...a customs station? He and Q stood on a stretch of dusty blacktop that led up to a simple gate consisting of a horizontal beam that blocked further pa.s.sage on the roadway. A rickety wooden booth, apparently staffed by a single guard, had been erected to the right side of the gate. A barbed-wire fence extended to both the east and the west, discouraging any unauthorized attempts to evade the gate. A sign was mounted beneath the open window of the booth, printed in heavy block lettering: YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE Q CONTINUUM. NO PEDDLERS, VAGRANTS, OR ORGANIANS ALLOWED.

A golden sun was shining brightly overhead, although it seemed to be reserving its warmest beams for the other side of the fence. Picard lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the glare and peered past the barbed wire. As nearly as he could tell, the Q Continuum looked like an enormous multi-lane freeway with more loops, exits, and on-ramps than seemed physically possible. Elevated roadways doubled back on each other, then branched off at dozens of incompatible angles. Ma.s.s transit as designed by M. C. Escher, Picard thought, astounded by the sight.

"What were you expecting, Shangri-La?" Q asked, enjoying Picard's gawk-eyed befuddlement.

"Something like that," he admitted. I suppose this imagery makes a certain amount of sense, given the younger Q's description of the Continuum as a shortcut that spanned the known universe. He could readily believe that this stupendous tangle of thoroughfares connected any conceivable location with everywhere else.

a.s.suming you got past the gate, of course.

That appeared to be the challenge facing 0 and Q's previous self at this moment. Not far away from where Picard and Q now resided, the young Q and his newfound acquaintance stood before the barricade as the customs official emerged from his booth, clipboard in hand. He was a stern, officious-looking individual wearing a large copper badge upon his khaki-colored uniform. A st.u.r.dy truncheon dangled from his belt. Picard was irked but not too surprised to note that this functionary bore a marked resemblance to himself. Come off it, Q, Picard thought. Surely I don't look that humorless?

The guard scrutinized 0 with a scowl upon his face. "You're not Q," he stated flatly.

"You can say that again," 0 proclaimed, unabashed, "but I'd be grateful if you'd let me trod your fine road. Young Q here tells me it's the swiftest way around these whereabouts."

He clapped Q on the back, sending Q staggering forward toward the guard. Looking on from less than five meters away, Picard noted that the youth had traded his monkish black robe for something closer to what 0 wore, minus the rags and tatters, naturally. He now wore boots, breeches, and a heavy fur coat. Just what Q needed, Picard thought sarcastically, a disreputable role model.

The guard gave Q a disapproving glance, then inspected his clipboard. "State your name, species identification, planet or plane of origin, and the nature of your business in the Continuum."

0 rolled his eyes, seemingly unimpressed by this display of authority. "Are you sure you don't want my great-great-grandmother's genetic code as well?" he asked dryly. Sighing theatrically, he launched into his recitation. "0's the name, my species is special, my origin is elsewhere, and my business is none of yours. Is that good enough, or would you care to arm-wrestle for it?" He shook off his s.h.a.ggy greatcoat and rolled up his sleeve. Right behind him, the young Q placed a hand over his mouth to m.u.f.fle an attack of giggles.

The guard looked considerably less amused by 0's flippancy. His scowl deepened and he lowered his clipboard to his side. "Where are you from," he asked, and Picard somehow sensed he was speaking for the whole of the Q, "and why should we permit you access to the Continuum?"

0 retrieved his coat from the pavement and threw it over his shoulder. "Well, the where of it is a long story that depends a lot on who's telling it. Let's just say I was once quite a mover and shaker a good ways from here, but I'm afraid that my able accomplishments were not always appreciated by those that should have known better, so it came to pa.s.s that the time was right for me to set off for greener pastures." He leaned forward and brushed some of the dust from his boots before straightening his spine, adjusting his hat, and addressing the guard. "As for why you should allow me safe pa.s.sage through your local stomping grounds, aside from basic hospitality, that is...why, this peerless young paragon will vouch for me."

"Is this true?" the guard demanded of Q. He didn't seem to regard the young ent.i.ty as much of a paragon.

Q gulped nervously, wilting under the guard's censorious stare. He looked to 0 for support and was greeted by a conspiratorial wink. The newcomer's boldness rubbed off on Q, who squared his shoulders and glared back at the guard defiantly. "Certainly!" he announced. "0's word is good enough for me. What's with this siege mentality anyway? We could do a lot worse than open our borders to new ideas and exotic visitors from foreign lands."

0 beamed at him. "That's telling 'em, friend." He poked the guard's badge with his finger. "You should listen to this young fellow if you've got any sense under that shiny, shorn scalp of yours."

That was uncalled for, Picard thought.

"So be it," the guard decreed. "This ent.i.ty is permitted within the Continuum-on the understanding that you, Q, take responsibility for him."

"They expected you to be the responsible one?" Picard remarked, arching an ironic eyebrow. "Why do I get the impression this was a horrendous mistake?"

The older Q averted his eyes from the scene before them. "For a lower life-form, you can be annoyingly prophetic sometimes."

Caught up in his newfound bravado, the young Q didn't hesitate a bit. "Agreed," he said grandly. "Raise up the gate, my good man."

"Well done," 0 whispered. He doffed his wide-brimmed hat and plopped it onto Q's head. Grabbing his erstwhile sponsor by the elbow, he dragged his bad leg toward the barricade and the vast interdimensional highway beyond. Picard looked on as the guard retreated to his booth. Moments later, the horizontal beam tilted upward until it was perpendicular to the road, and the newly united fellow travelers strode into the future, embarking on the endless highway for destinations unknown.

"So tell me, Q," 0 asked as his voice receded into the distance, "have you ever considered the fundamental importance of testing lesser species...?"

Interlude