Reverse Course

Miren Leto had grown rather fond of Joseph Carton in the weeks since they met, despite his erratic behavior.  One did not quite understand why he attempted to commit suicide, though.  One chalked it up as just another bizarre incident in a string of bizarre incidents which had taken place aboard this ship.  Still no one knew what happened to Proteus McCoy....

From all reports and sources, it appeared these incidents started around the time Carton first went into a coma, during the siege by the Rain.  What did Carton himself think of this?

One meant to find out.  One's curiosity was legendary among one's own people, the J'naii, renowned for curiosity.  Miren didn't always know when to keep one's nose to one's self, friendship or no.  Besides, Carton seemed isolated & alone, and if no one else was willing to be his friend, Miren Leto – if not quite understanding the value of friendship in Federation terms (it was hard to be so DEPENDABLE all the time; one faulted it to the strangeness of Terran values, and Terrans after all held the entire Federation morally gridlocked) – could, if nothing more, provide oneself as an ally, a sympathetic ear.

Miren walked into sickbay with the PADD for determining Carton's final state for transfer to Medical Eval, mind in two places at once.  It seemed Miren had to transfer as well.  One never understood the incessant Starfleet need to ricochet personnel from ship to ship.  Amazing, that they did not collapse from dizziness.  One wondered what it would be like aboard this USS Commonwealth?  Could not be worse than the weirdness aboard Arcadia.

Carton laid in biobed six, staring at the ceiling, glum as usual lately.  What mysteries for perception conjured between those ears, Miren wondered.

"Ready to go, Joe?" Miren said, trying on his personal name for size.  He had insisted to one once, if they were to be friends, one had to address him by personal name.  Joseph would do.  Of course Miren Leto always had to be different, so it became Joe.  One had heard a couple others call him that in the mess hall.

Miren's tone was doctorly, yet casual, meant to soothe.  It could not be easy knowing that, not only did one – and the one in this sentence was Carton – have to face the inquisitive ranks of Starfleet Medical (and Leto had been there – Leto knew), but Carton was also not to depart without armed "escort".  Captain's orders.  The truth was readily apparent.  Carton could be a threat to others?  One (Miren) hardly believed that, though one could be wrong (even if one would never admit it).  (Obviously the "one" reference is now back to Leto.)  A threat to others, perhaps, or a threat to himself.  Leto had no place to debate it, with mere lieutenant JUNIOR grade's pips.  One aimed to change that, though, aboard this Commonwealth.  In the meantime, the security guards had not shown up yet to "escort" him.

"Maybe you should call me Tim," Carton said.  "I look like him."  He shook his head.  "Where should I go?  Where can I go?  Does it matter?  Does anything matter?  I cannot unlearn what I've learned.  I'm Alice, prisoner in this rabbit hole... but not so helpless as I once was."

Miren pursed one's lips, not knowing what to say.  Carton had talked like this since coming around the second time, and prior to taking a knife to his wrists in his quarters.  He might have been delusional, psychologically challenged, but it did not SOUND like that.  He said it calmly, matter-of-factly, as if it was true, whatever he was getting at, this 'hidden truth' he went on about, this 'hidden world' he claimed existed.  One saw looking into Carton's eyes... there was something there, in what those eyes had seen, that made what he said worlds more sensible, if only to him, even if it remained locked in mystery.  Carton said things and things happened.  Counselor Niu Za'a had come to see him, hoping to succeed in a prognosis where Counselor Ziske had failed.  Carton hated to be bothered with counselors, feeling nothing was wrong with HIM, there was something wrong with everything/everyone else.  The Andorian Za'a took one look at Carton looking at her in That Way... and saw nothing wrong with him either – like Ziske.  Carton had a sway, an influence, yet never exerted it on Miren – to Miren's knowledge.  (One saw the quandary in this perception – how would anyone know they had been influenced?)  Miren felt akin to friendship with him, and tried to trust in that.

"I won't debate you, Lieutenant," Miren said, unsure whether to call him Joe, Tim or Alice and having NO idea why he said 'Tim'.  He was not exactly a prisoner, though; he needed help, one thought.

"That's true; I need help.  I can't get it here."

Miren's lips parted, realizing he had read one's mind.  Miren heard he could do that now.

Carton swiveled on the biobed, letting his legs hang over the side.  "They will know, soon."

"They?"

"They.  The make-believe crew of this make-believe ship.  Those who aren't being transferred."

"They will know... what?"

"The truth.  What you wish to know."

Miren felt embarrassed over being so transparent.  "The truth?  According to Joe-Tim-Alice Carton?"

Carton shrugged.  "Truth is truth, whether you want or choose to believe.  But you won't believe, one called Miren Leto.  That's why you'll stay here in the Hole, when the others ascend.  Now, I must prepare."

Miren bored fast with the strange talk and fell silent, making notations on the PADD, held his wrist checking his pulse, put that information in as well, picked up a light-scope and went to check his eyes.  He grabbed Miren's wrist.  "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Miren's wrist pulled free; Carton's intent, it seemed, was not to harm though that did not unsettle one any less.  Doctors were not used to such treatment from their patients, and Miren was getting impatient.  One went to shine the light in his eyes again but he moved his head.  Miren blew a breath through gritted teeth and finally answered his question, with a question: "Why do you keep moving?"

Carton looked at the light on the end of Miren's tool.  "In interactive quantum experiments, a single photon can be split simply by observing it.  It's the key to detection of other planes, other quantum realities.  Did you know that?"

"This isn't quantum physics, Lieutenant.  Now please sit still.  You are my last duty aboard this ship before I disembark, and I must still pack."

"I sincerely apologize, Miren.  I've learned how the Nazdeks pass harmlessly through energy barriers.  It's the same principle as quantum observational interaction... and now that I know what I need in order to go back, it's time for me to leave."

Leto felt unnerved by his rhetoric.  He meant what he said.  "Leave?"  He didn't mean for Starfleet Medical; that was obvious.

"Yes.  Goodbye, Miren.  Thank you for being my friend... although you aren't real."

Carton drew his legs up on the biobed, crossed them, closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate.

Before Miren's eyes, he vanished.  One moment he was there, the next, he simply wasn't.

"What is it?" Obeck said, joining Flandry at the Science console.

"Getting strange readings," the blond Science officer responded.  His board was lit up like a Christmas tree.  "Some sort of quantum field, source unknown... generating from Arcadia, but I can't pin it down.  Spreading in all directions.  It's already saturated the starbase.  At this rate it'll cover the Earth in less than thirty minutes."

Obeck glanced at him from the board.  "The QSD?"

Flandry nodded.  "That was my thought too."

Obeck wheeled about, approaching the Deltan woman, Malia, at ops.  "Malia?  What do you make of it?"

"I get nothing here," she said in an accent.

Stepping down to the Command chair, Obeck tapped his com-pin.  "Bridge to Engineering."

"Walker here."

"Lieutenant Walker, are there any anomalies to report?"

"Checking."  A moment later, she came back with a worried voice: "I don't know how, but we're losing power."

"In the Q-core?"

There was a nod in her tone.  "The Q-core and the warp core.  It's like they just stopped working.  The energy is disappearing – where, I don't know; into a subspace layer maybe.  I can't tell."

In Jenna's quarters, April took advantage of the distraction of a visitor to say, "Jenna... if you don't mind... there's someone else I have to thank.  He'll think I'm ignoring him too, if I don't go see him."

She nodded, knowing who he meant.

"I'll be back before you know it."  He grabbed one of the muffins and went to the wall intercom.  "Transporter room."

"Tala here."

"Tala, this is April; I—"

"Captain!"  The elation in the young woman's voice was apparent.  "I heard you were back.  It's good to hear your voice, sir."

April rolled his eyes.  One would have thought this crew thought he really was God or something.  "Tala, I need you to beam me to Commander Jallez's location."

"My pleasure, sir.  Stand by."  A moment later, she said "I'm sorry, Captain.  The transporters... just went offline.  I can't beam anyone anywhere at the moment."

Williams cocked an eyebrow at his partner in crime, Eno.

"Bet ya a night at Sandrine's I can hit it before you do."

Eno smirked.  "You're on."

The light globe shot out and Williams was quick on the draw.  But when he pushed the button on his phaser, nothing happened.

He looked at it, glowering, knowing Eno now had the advantage.  Eno went to fire a shot – same effect.  Nothing came out.  "What the..."  Eno looked his weapon over.

Dante had just informed Tabatha, much to her surprise, that he had to decline Eve's generous 'offer'-slash-request.  Tab bit her lip – it was considered a grave insult to a Bartokian.  Eve was not going to like Dante for a while.

Before Tab could respond, something drew her attention in the window, out in the main area of sickbay.  She looked up just as Carton vanished.  He didn't fade away... he just suddenly wasn't there.  She stared dumbly for a second, her brain not having yet registered what it meant.  Then, Miren Leto was gone too.  Vanished.  Just like that.

Tab leapt from her chair, racing out past a confused Dante.  "Betty?  What was that?  Where did they go?!"

The tall Andorian looked at her.  "I'm sorry, Doctor?  What was what?"

"Carton!  And Leto!  They were just there, now they're..."  She trailed off, dumbfounded.

Betty frowned at her.  "Are you feeling alright, Doctor Brisk?"

"Of course.  Why do you ask?"

Skye walked in from the Conference Lounge, glancing at the screen then around the bridge, wondering what was so urgent.  Obeck rose from the Command chair and gave him a quick status report.  Major systems were simply ceasing to function all over the ship.  It wasn't restricted to Arcadia, either – every ship in dock and the starbase itself were having similar problems.

"Has life support been affected?" Skye asked.

"Negative," Malia reported.  "At least not yet."

"Are the moorings secure?"  Skye had an awful vision of ships drifting loose, crashing into each other, tearing out the starbase's innards.

"They are secure, sir."

"Obeck, sound Yellow Alert."  He thought hard and fast.  With transporters out...  "Shuttlebay, are the aux craft in order?"  They might become their only means of getting on and off the ship, besides the umbilical transfer tubes leading into the starbase.  The response he got was, basically, they had impulse, but no warp.  Same as with Engineering – the Arc had impulse, it seemed, and that was enough to keep it in orbit, but there was no longer any warp or slipstream drive to speak of.  He turned as Commander Wayne rushed in.  "Commander, we need to get our guests off the ship, post haste.  Whatever's affecting us, I don't want them injured or in danger."

Wayne nodded, having been filled in by Obeck via com on his way here.  "Fortunately we beamed most of the Nazdeks off the ship when we arrived.  We only have a few left onboard, Hauras, Yancer, a few others.  Plus Ambassador Loquel.  We can use the access umbilicals to get them onto base, but..."  He shrugged.

Skye understood: If the base was affected, they could be in as much danger there.  "One thing at a time," he said.  "Please see to it."

Wayne nodded and moved off to the task.  Skye went to the Command chair, lost in thought.  The red-skinned Obeck stepped beside him.  "Captain, word from sickbay: Two people have disappeared.  Lieutenant Carton, Lieutenant junior-grade Miren Leto."  He paused.  "Just like Lieutenant McCoy, sir."

Skye cocked his head.  "Just like...?"

Obeck nodded.  "I had a hunch and checked it out.  All records of them are gone... as if they never existed."

Skye silently digested this, making a fist on the arm of the chair.  Lovely.  Get back to Earth, anxious to step down, and this happens.  "No indication of where they went?"

"No, sir."

"Captain," Flandry called, diverting Skye's attention, "the quantum field... If it's somehow causing this... it's going to have the same effect on Earth when it reaches the surface."

"How long?"

"Twenty-one minutes."

"I assume communications still work."

Pérez at Tactical drew a befuddled expression.  "Subspace comms are out.  We have the rest, though."

Skye rubbed his forehead.  It got better & better.  "Obeck, alert Starfleet Command."  By now, he imagined SC being bombarded by tons of calls, whether on working subspace frequencies or others, from every ship in the base as well the base.  But, it was procedure.  This could affect their sensors as well as Arcadia's.

"Aye, sir."  Obeck turned and went to his console.

"Can we get the ship out of Spacedock?"

Shmel, the Vulcan delta-shift Conn officer, turned in his seat, regarding Skye with that stoic Vulcan calm.  "Affirmative.  Impulse has not been affected."

"Jolly."  He tapped the chair-com: "Commander Wayne, your status."

"Just got them out, sir," the XO's voice came back.  "That's the last of them."

"Very good."  To Shmel: "Take us out, Ensign."  He tapped the com again.  "Senior staff – Ops, sciences, engineering, tactical.  Assemble in the conference room, on the double.  We have a situation to discuss."  He sat forward – "Screen on." – and watched as Shmel piloted the ship from dock.  Fortunately the rest of the ships present weren't all beating at the doors or they never would have made it out.  As the view of the starbase fell away to that of space, something caught Skye's attention in the starry distance.

"Sciences... what is that?"

Flandry cursed, drawing a look from the CO.  "I... can't scan it, sir.  Sensors are inoperative."  He leaned forward, studying the viewscreen.  "It looks like a satellite."  He came out from behind his station to get a better look, and his jaw fell.  "That's a telecommunications satellite."

Skye's head whipped around.  "Telecommunications!"

Flandry nodded, totally confused.  "That's primitive hardware.  They haven't been used in centuries."

A thought suddenly occurred to Tristan Skye: "Viewscreen aft."

Malia switched the view angle to the starbase they had just left... except the starbase wasn't there.

"Sir, I've lost Starfleet," Pérez announced.

Skye had a feeling about this... a bad feeling.  A suspicion.  "Check all bandwidths.  Find the signal that satellite is relaying."

"Got it, sir."

"On screen."

The image that appeared drew everyone's attention.

It was a bridge, much like this one.  There were Starfleet officers.  A voice called out, "Helm, warp one!  Engage!"  Skye rose from his chair at sight of the speaker: he recognized him.  Few Starfleet captains didn't.  That was Jean-Luc Picard.

"What in the bloody hell..." Skye whispered, high-pitched in bewilderment.

The image faded to be replaced by an advertisement of some sort... for pizza.  Pizza Hut, whatever that was.  The crew stared in stunned silence as the display changed to another – for automobiles.  Tony Betten's Used Ford.

"What... is... this...?" Skye asked no one in particular.