Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

Adia Shaar and Siobhan Science stepped to the door.  Shaar stopped and hesitated; Science reached for the pad.  Complants allowed a private admission signal, but in the company of others, protocol suggested making the action openly visible.

Inside, Stephen April sat on the edge of the couch along one wall, facing the desk.  His hands were steepled, the tips of his index fingers pressed to his chin, in thought.

On the other side of the desk sat an empty chair.  His chair.

Not his chair.  His chair.

He stared at it.  He had been staring at it for, seemingly, hours.

Brenda had rejected him.  Sunni rejected him.  Just as he rejected Cadie, but wondered now, if he hadn't... would she reject him too?  Women had a special intuition.  He wondered if they somehow sensed, on a subconscious level, what he had only recently learned.  He wondered if it was why they rejected him.

But then, he had been sensing it as well – ever since....

2386.  The Loop.  The Memiklon system.

He was not Stephen April.  Stephen April died.  Died, or evolved, or disappeared... whatever definition fit best.  A copy remained, left over in the wake of the Memiklon mission.  How it happened, he didn't understand.  Hon Jurmol was involved.  Covered up the fact that he was a clone.  Hid it even from him.  Then Jurmol disappeared... if he had ever been here to start with.

Duty told him to come forward.  Report it to Starfleet... then submit his resignation.

He didn't.  He couldn't.  This life was all he had ever known.  What was he to do?  How was he supposed to handle this?  How did a person deal with the fact that they died, then continued living?  One man went to sleep.  Never woke up.  A different person awoke in his place.  Same memories, same impressions, same thought-associations.  Same body... more or less.  But different, in a way too subtle and difficult to describe.

Someone asked him once if he believed in the paranormal.  But the normal was difficult enough to understand.

He got up, went to the mirror over the sink, unfastened his uniform jacket, and lifted the burgundy undershirt.  He had sustained a scar once, across his abdomen, in a run-in with Nazdeks.  A dermal regenerator took care of the scar, at least physically.  Scrutinizing the skin with his comtacts, he could make out no trace of it.  Did he ever have such a scar?

At first, he didn't turn himself in, and told no one.  B'Eryn sensed that he was hiding something.  She didn't have to be telepathic to make the deduction.  But he didn't confess.  He wouldn't.  He couldn't.

He was afraid.

It was absurd.  Other clones served in Starfleet.  Stasia Nyerko was a clone.  So was Gus MacKenzie, in engineering, and the Arcturian, LT-145335.  But few commanded starships – Patar'andar, captain of the Echostone, Sunni Moon's ship, notwithstanding.

What was he really afraid of?

The door rang.  He replaced his shirt and refastened his jacket.  Adia Shaar and Siobhan Science entered, after his acknowledgment of permission.

"Captain, we have two matters to discuss," Shaar said, "both rather urgent."

April briefly scrutinized the dark-haired women, as he had scrutinized the missing scar.  He started for the desk.

"Most urgent first."

Science looked to Shaar.  Shaar nodded and Science spoke.  April wondered why Libra wasn't present.

"We've had a breakthrough," Science said.  "Based on galactic configuration projections, Lieutenant Libra surmised what the Shapers are doing, and, possibly, why.  It's so simple – We guessed it as a possible design goal, but we weren't certain."  She snapped her fingers; a holographic diorama appeared, sprawling through the room.  Geometric galaxies floated in midair, dotting an invisible universe.  "This is an estimation of what galaxies should look like in twelve quintillion years."

April peered at one of the formations, shaped like a flat hexagon, with spokes of densely clustered stars radiating from the center.  It was beautiful, in the shimmer of holographic light.  "Quintillion?  There aren't supposed to be any galaxies in twelve quintillion years."

"Exactly, sir," Shaar said.  "But... now... there will be."

"Here's the urgent part."  At Science's cue, the holo-galaxies started moving together, while a chronometer along the display's edge raced forward over the eons, numbers shifting fast.  The galaxies converged into a single massive galaxy, dwarfing modern superclusters.  Its sheer size boggled the mind, interconnected like a lattice, with angles and planes impossible for nature to form on such scales.  "A supergalaxy," Science said, "which should be physically impossible.  The Shapers are changing constants, including gravitational constants, which amounts to a change in physical laws.  In our calculations, it won't withstand gravity's ultimate role, however, and that may be intentional.  Transtemporal emissions indicate it will collapse on itself, forming a black hole more massive than has ever existed in the history of the universe, or could ever exist by natural means.  It will devour everything in the entire universe... the universe itself.  It will become the universe."

"When?" April said.

"Eons, sir."

"And this is urgent now?"

"Sir, when the black hole forms, it will release an omega wave."

April, about to sit in the chair that wasn't his, stopped as he felt the other shoe drop.  "An omega wave."

"A conflux of omega particles–" Science started.

"I know what it is," April said.  "You're certain."

"Based on current equations, yes sir, quite probably.  Unless conditions change."

April digested this.  "Why isn't Libra making this report?"

"That's our other news, sir.  Lieutenant Libra's AWOL."

"What?  AWOL... Why wasn't I informed?"

"We just learned, trying to report to him," Shaar said.  "We checked exit logs; he walked out at 1430, on the dot, and covered his tracks.  No one knows where he went.  He could be anywhere."

"Stand by."  With a thought, April activated his complant.  ~April to Nyerko.~

April rubbed his forehead.  When shit hit the fan around here, it nearly stopped the damn blades.  He didn't need this.  What was happening to everybody?  Instead of doing the jobs they were hired to do, they were playing hooky or quitting.  Or getting themselves taken off the duty roster, now, like Nyerko and Hunt.

He queried the CMO for details; then: ~Keep abreast of their progress and keep me informed.  I want them back on duty as soon as they're able.~

Shaar and Science waited patiently while April contacted Lieutenant Pegg.  James Pegg had requested a transfer out of the flight systems department, where he felt like a fifth wheel.  He had done his share of cross-training, earning decent marks, making him a more valuable crewmember.  Considering that he was up for promotion review, April expedited the matter, using his authority as captain to grant a promotion to full lieutenant, putting Pegg in charge of ship's security, where he showed potential.  Pegg's first order of business: To track down the AWOL Libra.

While thinking about it, April said, "Miss Science, you seem officer material.  Why didn't you go for a full commission?"

Science explained that in her youth, she'd been eager to get into active Starfleet service.  Noncommissioned status made it quicker and easier.  She wasn't interested in pursuing a career as an officer; her field interested her more.  April urged her to reconsider; she would have been his next choice as chief science officer.  While she promised to do so, she didn't qualify at present.  Clicker transferred off Arcadia in 2386.  That put Adia Shaar next in line... currently a junior grade lieutenant.  Though she specialized in linguistics, April promoted the El-Aurian as well and gave her Libra's job.

Shaar seemed to have been expecting this.  She lifted her chin and kept her face impassive.  "Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir," she said, in a neutral tone that nearly made April's heart break.  She didn't want the job.  But this was Starfleet, and she was the most qualified.

"Now back to it," April said.  "This omega wave.  What can we do about it?"

"Unfortunately, very little," Science said – which, in her words, meant nothing, a word she didn't like.  "This is a technology beyond anything we have.  They can reshape the fabric of the universe.  We have nothing that comes close to matching that ability.  If we did, I imagine we'd be the Shapers.  We might resolve the principles, given a few years or decades, but there's been little to no progress on it over the last twenty years."

April wished he had access to the computers in the Department of Temporal Affairs.  They probably knew already how this was going to end.

"All right," he said.  "Anything else?"

Shaar and Science traded looks as they did when they entered.  That seemed to be the end of the monumental, universe-shaking stuff for today.

As Science departed, Shaar paused in April's doorway.  "Captain... if you'd ever like to talk... I'm a pretty good listener."

April eyed her over the desk.  She waited.  When she saw that he had gotten the joke, her eyes brightened, gleaming.  April didn't feel like grinning, but suddenly was, a trifle of a grin, in spite of himself.

Shaar had finally gained what she had been missing, all these years: The vaunted El-Aurian 'listening' ability.  It took a relatively minor genetic modification, denied to her until recently by prohibitions in Federation law.  Shaar was the type to want to help others – opening lines of communication, her specialty.  Now a 'Listener', that only enhanced it.

Genetic nature was the problem for April.

"Thank you, Lieutenant.  Maybe later."