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Tsv-08-100 LSTX-2000: Lost in Space and Time Chapter One: A Temporal Displacement Chapter Two: An Exitor and an EM Egg Chapter Three: Under Cloak and at the Edge Chapter Four: Shanghaied by Martian Slavers Chapter Five: The Ntzeon Effect Chapter Six: Lost Survivors in Space Chapter Seven: Stealth About Midnight Chapter Eight: Back Through Time Chapter Nine: Zeta 4 Chapter Ten: The Ntzeon Plant Chapter Eleven: The Voyage Across Time	LSTX-2000: Lost in Space and Time Chapter 2: An Exitor and an EM Egg Troi and Crusher met with Data in the Conference room by the bridge and told him about the mysterious stranger. “I don’t think he’s a spy,” Troi said. “He appears to be what he claims.” “What does he claim to be?” Data said. Troi hesitated, expecting some odd reaction from them, under the circumstances. “He claims to be a traveler of the... 4th dimension. “Time?” Crusher said with some surprise. “Yes,” she admitted, “He was a space traveler, from 21st century Earth. In 2086, he was lost in the asteroids between Jupiter and Mars. His name is Ron Querzo.” “Accessing...,” Data said to himself, as his head turned a bit and he stared into space. “Ron Querzo, co-pilot of the UNC Valkon, a small freighter. Reported lost in 2086 on run from Mars to the Jovian colonies.” He turned back to the counselor. “If true, I am forced to presume that he may, somehow be connected with the EM incongruity on Zeta 4.” “You think,” Crusher said, “the field is related to his 4-dimensional jump?” “There are no indications,” Data admitted, “of temporal flux, within the field. However, the sensors haven’t been able to get any exact readings due to all the interference.” Suddenly, Troi sensed something, but it was gone as quickly. “Deana?” Crusher said. “For a second, I sensed something odd from the planet.” Data checked the video. “It is very near time for the Captain to report. Doctor, check Mr. Querzo for traces of his 4d jump. Counselor, accompany me on the bridge.” Troi and Data went to the bridge and took the seats at the command station. “We just lost a lock on the Captain,” the officer reported, “attempting a relock.” “What were his last coordinates?” “Approximately 200 meters from the EM field.” “Hail them,” Data ordered. A second later, the man replied. “Sorry, sir, we can’t make a downlink.” “Send 2 men down to their last coordinates, with orders to investigate but stay away from the field.” He turned to Troi, “Describe to me what you sensed in the conference room.” “I don’t know. A very brief breeze. It may or may not be an intelligence, I’m not sure, I think I’ll have another word with Querzo. If you don’t need me.” “Very well,” Data said, and she left the bridge. Troi used her personal computer to access information pertaining to Mr. Querzo and the book he’d given her entitled, “The Lost Planet”, and couldn’t find anything more than what Data had covered. Then she noted that the author of the book was N. Zentor, not R. Querzo. So she looked up Zentor and still drew a blank. According to the records on the author, he was an unpopular social critic, mostly known for his ‘unpopular’ piece of work, ‘Nexistentialism’, which political factions of the government feared for its cold, hard picture of reality. There was no mention of a ‘Lost Planet’ whatsoever. Troi was puzzled. According to the records, he was born in 1958 and died in 2022, at 64. He was a lower-middle class worker for 25 years before resigning to an upper-lower class and mediocre poverty, where he did meager missionary work and wrote for a sleazy magazine for nickels and dimes. Nothing more was recorded. The obituary was recorded by the city press, a dedication by his friend A. Mentor. Troi decided to make a hard copy to present as evidence to Mr. Querzo’s case. The one thing most prominent, as she saw it, was not so much the missing ‘Lost Planet’ info, but the temporal relation. N. Zentor died in 2022. How could he be the author of a reality based story of a man in 2086? She checked for an N. Zentor at a later time period, but found none. How could it be the same man? She decided to talk with Querzo again. This was a real mystery, and she had to solve it. She met him in the hall outside sickbay, as he was leaving. “Mr. Querzo,” she said, ‘could I talk with you? I have a few questions.” “Certainly,” he agreed, smiling lightly, “Your place or mine?" “Yours,” she said, and they walked along. “There is no record of your book,” she admitted, as they walked along, “in our computer. If it’s in the Earth database, it should be on the Enterprise. Can you tell me why? Was it lost in a war, or a natural disaster?” “No, but the copies were limited,” he said. “Unless...” “Unless what?” she said, and stopped with a swivel at the entrance to his apartment. “Did you read any of the book?” he asked her, and opened the door. She followed him inside. “Some of it,” she said, “When we were here yesterday. I’m sure I would have read more, but, as I said, there was no record of it in our database.” He looked at her seriously, then walked to the window and looked out at the stars and space. “If I tell you,” he said, “will you give me all the information I need?” “I am authorized to tell you some things,” Troi admitted. “The Space Sector?’ he said, still staring out into space. “We are presently inside the Zeta star-system, in the Sigma sector,” she said. “Now you. Our records tell us you were lost in 2086. A book based upon what happened, after you were lost, was apparently written almost a hundred years earlier, by a man that died in 2022. Yet, the book has no record in Earth’s database. Why the discrepancy?” Querzo turned about, looked at her, and went to the wall service. “Tea?” he said to her. “Yes, thank you,” she agreed, and decided to sit down. As she did this, she saw the book on the table and decided to check it out. “I won’t beat around the bush,” he said, as he brought the teas and sat down. “The ‘author’, N. Zentor, wrote the book in an alternate universe. In this universe, he may have never encountered the story.” “An alternate universe,” she said, and frowned a bit. She opened the book and checked the year of publication. It was 1998. “If the book was published in 1998,” she said, “in an alternate universe, how’d you get it’?” “I met N. Zentor, in 2094,” he said. “2094,” she said with further intrigue. “How did Zentor get to 2094, if he died in 2022?” “He didn’t die at the same time in the alternate universe,” Querzo explained, “but that’s beside the point. He was carried to 2094, from 1994, in a Martian tem-transverser, a vehicle that transcends time.” “I see,” she said. “That planet out there,” he said. “Zeta 4,” she said, still looking through the book with interest. “This picture,” she said. “Is it the Valkon?” He looked at it as she showed it. “No, that’s something I salvaged from the Valkon’s wreckage, much smaller.” “Amazing,” she admitted, curiously, “So you survived a crash, where?” “On an asteroid,” he said. “But the records say...” “Yes, they say I was lost, presumed dead,” he completed the point. “Well, there may be a couple of different reasons for that. Either my role-change covered me better than I expected, or... or I’m not from this universe.” Her eyes widened at the thought. She touched her com-badge and said, “Med-lab. Is there any evidence to suggest that Mr. Querzo may be from an alternate universe?” “One moment,” the doctor said. Troi studied the book as they awaited the response. A minute later, it came. “Affirmative; his nuclear-type is asynchronous. Mr. Querzo is not of this universe.” Troi looked with surprise at Querzo, with a sudden change of respect. “I checked the records,” the doctor said, “We better have another conference. Mr. Querzo may have relatives aboard.” -------------------------------------------- On Zeta 4, the Captain stopped trying to reestablish a com-link with the Enterprise, and looked ahead into an exotic, alien oasis at the edge of the barren mountains. “Sir,” one of the men said, stepping around a large jut of stone to the west. “I’ve found something; the shuttle, appears to have crashed.” “Where?” The man led the Captain through juts of stone, pointed up the incline at the mountain’s base. In the near distance, 100 meters away, on the rocks and in the sand, was the shuttle’s wreckage. The other man waved from beside it, as they climbed the hillside, “It’s empty, sir,” the man reported, as they joined him. “No sign of any blood or foul play. My guess is they had some control over the landing, just not enough.” “Radio’s damaged,” the other said. “After the crash, they were out of contact.” “Yes, but where’d they go?” “No tracks,” the other man said. “Wind swept the hillside, probably.” The Captain turned northwest and looked out across the oasis. “They must be beyond that EM field,” he said, and checked the area with the video-scanner carefully. “Sir,” one of the men said, “I managed to access the log.” The Captain sat down in the co-pilot seat as the man sat beside him and adjusted the video. Second Commander Ryker was shown as the ship was shaking. “The EM field discharged a bolt of energy. We are forced to make a crash-landing. Enterprise, acknowledge. We’re going down.” The message ended there with nothing more. “That’s it, sir.” “Sir,” the second man said from the door. “I’m getting some peculiar readings now, from the field.” The captain stepped outside. “What kind of readings?” “Highly intelligent,” the man said, “Maybe some kind of artificial installation.” “Let’s get down from here,” he decided, “If the shuttle was hit by an energy weapon, we’d better take cover,” They all moved down the hillside, back into the thick of the oasis. “Sir,” the man with the sensor unit said, “You probably should know this. One of those readings indicates the presence of antimatter.” “Antimatter?” the Captain repeated, and hesitated with the thought. “It’s my guess that Ryker’s unit probably registered that also. Standard procedure would be to investigate, but why haven‘t they reported?” The three of them walked further on thru the oasis, and stopped at the edge of a hill, overlooking a pond of water. About 100 meters away was the high wall of the mountain. In the wall there was a waterfall and a large crack. Scanning the area with his video-scanner, he penetrated the crack, which was mostly hidden by the waterfall. “The field sir,” one of the men said, “According to the sensors, we’re at the very edge.” Suddenly, one of the men gasped, and then fainted. “Take cover’” the Captain said quickly, but as he tried to return to the trees, he was hit by a bolt of energy and knocked out. [Back] [Next]
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