Perchance to Dream - Part 2
An Earth - Final Conflict story by Tina Price
(mailto:_TinaP@prodigy.net)
Original Story Ideas ©1999, Tina Price. All rights reserved.

Archive: All my stories can be found at my personal page at : http://pages.prodigy.net/tinap/ and http://members.xoom.com/TinaPrice

Preview: Amid the rolling hills and monoliths of Strandhill, two very different people mature. One must wrestle with regret while the other questions his very place in the world.

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: Earth - Final Conflict, all characters and images therein, as well as story elements put forth in the series are the property of the Tribune Entertainment Company. Several characters appearing in this story are my own creation. Any similarity with anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Authors notes: There is a chart at the end of this story which lists all the old Celtic names I've used as well as their pronounciations and meaning. This story refers back to events which have ocurred in several of my other EFC stories, most notably "Singled Out".
        I want to thank each and every reader who has written to me to say how much they've enjoyed this story series. Your support and sincerity is wonderful and you've given me both honest feedback and the confidence to keep on writing. As usual, advice, criticism and kudos are welcomed.
        Once again, major MAJOR kudos to my wonderful Beta reader, Janet Spruill White. I could not have done nearly as well without her. Her patience and hard work in editing my stories can never be adequately repaid. We've worked together 'live' online many a long night in order to post promised stories on time and we also chat nearly every week. After two years I feel as though I know her so very well. She is a true and dear friend - and to think that we have yet to actually meet each other face to face! (Don't worry Jan, I'm headed up your way soon).
        The very premise of "Perchance" came about as a result of one of Jan's own original story ideas involving Zo'or and Nivian. If you enjoy it, please write and let her know! You can drop her a line, at this address: mailto:_lablanche@yahoo.com.




Perchance to Dream
Part 2
 
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come 
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time...
Naoise's Journal:

        It is only now, after living so many very long, lonely years, that I regret the things I've done in my former incarnation.
        Though I know that the odds are against this pitiful collection of my writings ever falling into the proper hands - and indeed, that it is most likely unsafe to take such risks, I cannot help but continue. Despite the years, I fervently hope that those I left behind will read these tattered, crude pages and finally know what became of me.
        ...And also learn of my regret.
        For I do miss my former life. More than any could possibly guess or think me capable of.
        I've grown. I've aged and matured, and yet because of my heritage, those changes are all within - where none may see them.
        I understand now the wisdom of my former mentor - how the years shaped her and molded her.
        How the mere act of living softened her.
        And oh, how I've suffered!
        I've seen so many whom I've grown to care for, age and die. And I've had to isolate myself from all but a very few, to hide from them the truth of my condition - that I may yet live another millennium and still appear the same on the day that my mortal form passes to the next plane.
        Worst of all has been my yearning for two that I have truly loved - my beautiful Nivian, whom I've left behind, and my adopted child, Braedan, who left his mortal existence several centuries past.
        All that is left for me now is to hide away, to be nothing more than an isolated onlooker, as life goes on around me...
        My greatest hope now, besides my continued one that I be rescued, is that this planet and its true inhabitants will survive the future arrival of my kind - and my own youthful foolishness.

        Lili stood within the ruins of the Strandhill exhibition room and watched as the Taelon carefully examined the remains of the stone portal. The truth was that she wished she was elsewhere - that she was back at the hospital with everyone else. Da'an lay as close to death as a Taelon could be without actually crossing over and Boone lay exhausted and unconscious within the same room, suffering from multiple broken bones as well as internal injuries. Every attempt to move the Commander any distance from Da'an had resulted in a sudden unconscious thrashing about on his part and a worsening of Da'an's condition.
        Yes, she wished she were back aboard the home ship, watching over them, but she also knew she'd just be in the way.
        Best to investigate Braedan and Zo'or's disappearance with the hope of bringing them back some good news.
        Liam had volunteered to do this, but she had convinced him that his place was in guarding the North American Companion and her Consort. It was his place, his purpose as Da'an's protector and there really was no way of knowing exactly how many Jaridians had made it to Earth.
        "Captain Marquette."
        Lili swiveled around at the sound of her name and moved to join Kha'rha. "What is it?"
        The Taelon let out a human-like sigh. The portal was indeed activated.
        "Then they're alive." Her relief was short lived.
        "Maybe."
        "What do you mean, maybe?"
        "If they ended up in the future, then we may yet catch up with them, but I hope that this is not the case."
        "Why?"
        "Because they may be far in the future and we have no way of determining what year."
        "But, couldn't they simply get to another portal and come back?" she asked, her brows drawing together in puzzlement.
        "That's assuming that the Taelons still survive. I think that if that were the case, they would be back with us already." At her despondent look, he laid a hand on her shoulder. "I believe that it is more likely that they are in the past, which at least allows us a slight chance of staging a rescue."
        "But if they've gone back, wouldn't they have changed history in some way?"
        "Not necessarily. Zo'or would understand the importance of not disrupting the time continuum, which ironically enough, will also make searching for them difficult."
        Lili felt dizzy. The thought of Zo'or in a position in which he could influence humanity - perhaps at a time when the species was very susceptible and superstitious was not a pleasant thought.
        "I understand why you said that they might not be alive now," she sighed. "If they went far back in time, they're already dead. Here's what's bothering me; if they were supposed to go back, then we'd be changing our own past by rescuing them, wouldn't we?"
        "If that is the case, then yes, you are correct..."
        The two of them swung around and found themselves staring at Nivian, who was squatting down amongst the portal's ruins, a large fragment in her hands. She was staring at it in a daze, her face pale and her eyes watery.
        Lili looked over at Kha'rha and was surprised by the pity she saw upon his face. He turned his towards her and she could see his eyes glowing brightly behind his human facade.
        "...And that is why Taelons do not tempt fate by traveling through time," he added.

        "Will."
        The voice was soft and familiar and try as he might, he couldn't ignore it.
        "Sarah?" he asked, and was shocked at the shakiness of his own voice. When he opened his eyes, everything was briefly out of focus. Then his eyes settled down and there she was - smiling down at him.
        "Hey, big brother," she whispered. "I thought you grew out of sleeping in?"
        For a moment he was deeply confused and then...
        "Da'an!" He called out frantically as he struggled to sit up, but several pairs of hands were laid upon him, gently pushing him back down and holding him still.
        "Will, relax," Sarah demanded in a calm, soothing voice, as Liam and the nurse let go of him. "We'll let you up in a minute, but you have a broken leg."
        He stopped fighting. "Where am I? Where's Da'an?"
        "Will..."
        "Oh God, please don't tell me she's dead!" He could hear his own voice threatening to break. "Sarah, I can't feel her!"
        "She's here, Will. I promise you that you'll see her." She rubbed his shoulder. "First, you need to know what's going on. First of all, you're on the home ship..."
        "Sarah, I know that Braedan is lost in time with Zo'or," he replied. "I remember everything that happened."
        "Good. I'm glad that I don't need to tell you then." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm so sorry for you. I know what it's like to lose..."
        "Hey." He pulled her down to him and hugged her close. "You and I have been through so much together. I know you understand." He gently rubbed her back and then pushed her to arm's length. "Now let me see Da'an."
        She nodded. "She's right here, Will. The doctors couldn't move you to another room. Every time they tried, her vitals would start to bottom out."
        As he sat up, she moved aside and his breath caught in his throat as he saw the tank behind her.
        "Nooooo...." The word emerged as an agonized hiss. Still, his heart skipped painfully as his own memories of the horrible, but life-saving device resurfaced.
        With barely a thought for his wounded, casted leg, he swung his feet off the bed and began hobbling forward.
        "Wait!" In a second, Sarah was beside him, pulling his arm over her shoulders so he could use her like a crutch. "Lean on me," she entreated.
        "Always.".
        After hobbling a short distance across the room, he laid his hands upon the cool, clear tank and watched its floating inhabitant for any sign of motion. There wasn't any. She was unconscious, but though her form was still a transparent blue, her pathways showed some signs of activity as dim sparks of light traced slowly beneath her flesh. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. Still he could not feel his lover's presence.
        "How bad is it?" he asked, feeling suddenly as though it was beyond hope.
        "Da'an's situation is in fact a very fortunate one," came a familiar voice from his right.
        Turning his head, he saw Dro'vha enter the room, followed by Lili, Augur and Kha'rha. They moved toward Liam, who was near the side of the tank.
        The Pacific Companion came to him and held out a hand, an invitation to share. Without hesitation, Boone placed his own palm against it and began to live the events of the last few days from Dro'vha's point of view.
        For a brief moment in time, he became the Companion who had once served as his own aide.
        He saw himself summoned by the Synod and relived his refusal to attend a formal Synod meeting until he assured himself that Da'an was receiving the best of care. His kind were well known for letting nature take her course rather than expending any resources to save the lives of certain political rivals.
        When he had entered the medical section and located the fallen Taelon, he was shocked by her appearance - and the lack of treatment she was receiving. She had been laid out upon a pallet and left there as several scientists simply hovered nearby.
        If Zo'or was lost in the portal, as he had heard, then Da'an was next in line as Synod leader, which, he supposed, explained the situation.
        Turning toward the lower ranked Taelons, he had demanded that they bring in a tank, but they had balked, insisting that they had been ordered to take no further measures to save the fallen Companion. Outraged, he swung about to face them and would surely have put them in their place, when a new voice was heard at the doorway.
       "And now you have two Synod members telling you to fetch the tank," Kha'rha had said, in a scathing tone. "Will you dare to refuse again?"
        The cowed scientists had instantly answered that they would not refuse and had moved off to do as they were told.
        He had been relieved at having Kha'rha on hand, but there had been no time to waste on pleasantries.
        "Where is Boone?" he had asked.
        "Dr. Belman is transporting him now," Kha'rha had answered. "I believe that we have both reached the same conclusion."
        "Yes. His presence may make all the difference. Surely she will find it more difficult to leave us knowing that he will be left alone with the knowledge that their child is missing."
        "Exactly. Now tell me, how is it that Da'an has survived a hit by a Jaridian weapon?" Kha'rha had asked, as he moved to stand on the other side of the pallet.
       "Ironically enough, her regression to a more human physiology may be the reason for her survival," he had answered. "She is far less energy based than we and the Jaridian weapons are designed to disrupt energy."
        "Yet Boone himself has been injured by the blast."
        "True. The weapon does damage matter based organisms, however, it is far less lethal to them than to us. Had Zo'or been the one to be hit, he would have been vaporized on the spot."
        Kha'rha had looked troubled. "The Jaridians singled out Da'an. This means that they know the truth of our separation from them," he had said in a voice which was nearly a whisper. "They also knew of her offspring. They are close, very close to our sector now and determined to obliterate us and any humans whom we have influenced."
        "Yes. Let us hope that we shall do what is best for both Taelon and human. Better that we face the Jaridians elsewhere than allow this world to die with us."
        They had both looked down at Da'an then, but it had been Kha'rha who had spoken. "Then we must save Da'an. This began with her line and she must be the one to end it. I do believe that fate had a hand in removing her rival from this place and time. Now it is up to you to see to it that she lives to fulfill her role in this."
       In just seconds, Boone watched himself being wheeled into the room as Da'an was carefully placed within the healing tank. He had himself suffered several injuries and been nearly depleted by the skrill blasts he had fired. Belman had recommended that he be sedated for a few days, telling the two Companions that he was sure to be out of bed and working at retrieving Braedan as soon as he awoke.
        The sharing ended and he allowed his palm to drop away from Dro'vha's. "Thank you - both of you - for saving her," he addressed the Companions.
        In answer, they both bowed their heads briefly.
        "You realize, of course, that the information you've shared with me has just raised many more questions in my mind?" he asked Dro'vha.
        "Yes. And we are prepared to answer them if need be," the Pacific Companion replied. "However, I believe it would be best to wait until Da'an has emerged from her ordeal."
        "Then she's going to live?" He could barely contain the hope which flared within him.
        Dro'vha nodded and smiled gently. "She will live."
        "But that is not enough," Kha'rha cut in. "She must be awake and able to function soon, or another will be elected as Synod Leader."
        Boone frowned. "Is it OK for me to leave the room?"
        Dro'vha exchanged looks with Kha'rha. "We were wondering that ourselves. Perhaps Da'an is well enough that it will not matter."
        "Try," Kha'rha encouraged him.
        Lili stepped forward and handed him a pair of crutches she had retrieved from a corner.
        Taking them, he released Sarah and slowly made his way towards the door.
        "Keep going. Her readouts are still acceptable," Dro'vha encouraged.
       A few more feet and he was standing outside the door. He was about to ask if everything was still all right when he heard the voice he loved most echo in his mind. It was faint, almost sleepy sounding, but it was there.
  <"Find our child,"> it said.
        Making a quick return to the room, he demanded his clothes and then headed toward a more private area to get dressed.
        "Boone, what do you think you're doing?" Lili asked, from the other side of the wall which screened him from view.
        "I'm going to try and find my son," he answered. "I heard Da'an just now. She asked me to look for him. She's going to be OK."
        "Boone, I don't know if..."
        "Don't say it Lili! I don't care what you've heard, I have to try anyway. If you want to help, then please stay here with Da'an. Make sure no one tries to vaporize her while I'm gone."
        "Look, you can take me or you can take Liam. One of us will remain here to guard Da'an," she said, and he heard her check her weapon. "But the other is going to make certain that you don't over do it and end up back in a hospital bed," she added. "Besides, for all we know, there could be another Jaridian wandering about looking for your head. The Taelons found their ship - and it was a THREE-seater!"
        "The probe was the third occupant," he reasoned.
        "Maybe, but there's a cargo area and it could have been transported there," she snapped back.
        He hobbled out from behind the screen and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I knew I could count on you." Turning, he motioned to his sister. "Come on Sarah, I'm sure that Dro'vha won't mind giving you a lift home after he drops me off at the Embassy."
        "Not at all," the Pacific Companion assured them, as he followed them from the room.


 

Naoise's Journal:

       I remember my arrival in this place as though it were but yesterday, but then, how could I not recall the split second decision which was to change my entire existence? In truth, I have often thought about those few seconds which brought me through the singularity.
        What if I had never entered the display room which contained the exhibit? What if I had never run, but rather, taken Braedan and hidden us only a few doors away? What if I had never attended the conference?
        In the end, it matters not. I chose a path which brought me here and there is no retracing my steps.
        But I diverge. I had meant to write of my arrival in this time...

        After spending the better part of an hour sitting upon the base of the portal, Zo'or finally decided to go in search of the humans he hoped still lived nearby. In the end the decision had proven fairly easy to make. Although he was not human, could never hope to pass for one and might therefore face some hostility, perhaps even death at their hands, Braedan required the sustenance only they could provide. Best to go now, before the infant began crying with hunger.
        Cradling the infant against him, he set out across the field in the direction in which the future town of Strandhill was located. The stone monoliths in the field were reassuring in some ways, for they were proof that he was at least somewhere fairly familiar.
        As he continued on, he eventually reached a place in the clearing in which a small dirt path had been worn, no doubt, by myriad human feet. Stepping onto it, he followed its course through the woods at the edge of the clearing.
        Approximately a mile later, he reached the other end of the tree line and stopped to peer cautiously out at what lay ahead of him.
        A small village comprised of approximately a dozen or so huts existed in a small clearing. Most had thin trails of dark smoke spiraling up from openings in the centers of their roofs, although a few also had fire pits outside where women were cooking or cleaning skins.
        Zo'or noticed the length of the shadows upon the ground and with a glance at the top of the tree line, realized for the first time that it was growing late. Although he had left his time in the late morning hours, he had apparently arrived here in the late afternoon. It would soon be dark and these superstitious humans would most likely refuse to open their doors and homes to a stranger with a baby then.
        What should be his course of action?
        Feeling far removed from the confident Synod Leader he had been just that morning, he glanced down at the baby in his arms.
        Braedan was already beginning to fuss. Come to think of it, the child's bottom felt sodden...
        Perhaps he should circle the village and then decide.
        Moving back farther into the tree line, he cautiously began his circumnavigation.
        It was slow going. He had to take care to make as little noise as possible and the many fallen sticks and leaves seemed to have piled up in all the places he most wished to tread. By the time he reached the back end of the village, he knew he had run out of time. Braedan had begun to cry.
        Trying desperately to quiet the infant, he placed him up on his shoulder and opened a link to his young mind.
        The child stopped crying as soon as he comprehended Zo'or's anxious need for quiet. He lay there upon his elder's shoulder, and cramming a small fist into his mouth, began gnawing on it in teary eyed silence. Now and then he would hiccup and a small quiver would shake him as he suppressed his urge to wail.
        Zo'or's relief was short lived.
        A new presence whispered to him through the now-barren Commonality link. With a shock, his head jerked around, his eyes torn from their perusal of the infant to focus instead upon the source of the new thoughts.
        Moving slowly through the village in his direction was what appeared to be an old man. He wore shabby, worn out robes which had faded to various hues of brown and he leaned heavily upon a cane. A large hood was thrown over his head, screening his face from view, but Zo'or knew it could be but one person.
        Only a Taelon like himself would have blue eyes which glowed in the darkness of such a cowl and only one Taelon was known to have lived in Earth's past.
        "Ma'el," Zo'or whispered aloud.
        <"And you are the child of Deh'r,"> came Ma'el's thoughts in his head. They were anything but weak and the power which resonated with them sent a thrill through him.
        Almost without thinking what he was doing, he left the tree line and moved forward to meet Da'an's parent.
        Ma'el stopped directly before him and lowered his hood, revealing a face which was the same as Da'an's in every way. "How came you here?" he asked in the one language they both spoke.
        Zo'or held his hand out, palm outward. It would be faster to share the events leading up to his arrival.
        Without hesitation, Ma'el accepted the invitation, joining their palms together.
        Immediately Zo'or felt him drawing on his memories, triggering a reliving of the events which led up to his arrival in this time. It didn't stop there, however, as Ma'el pulled harder on his store of knowledge, seeking information about his past. Try as he might, he could not resist the older Taelon's formidable mind and within seconds his life was laid bare.
        The sharing ended as Ma'el withdrew his hand and Zo'or again became aware of his surroundings.
        The expression on the elder Taelon's face was neither condemning nor judgmental. "You have saved this child at great risk to yourself," he said, shocking Zo'or with the realization that he now spoke perfect English.
        "You are welcomed here and I will aid you in any way I may," Da'an's parent continued.
        "Can you release the locks upon the portal?"
        Ma'el glanced upwards. "It is about to storm. Come, we shall continue this conversation within the shelter of my abode." Turning, he started back the way he had originally come and did not even glance back to see if he was being followed.
        Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Zo'or stood his ground for a moment until a splash of cold liquid on his cheek startled him into action. Moving forward, he followed his new guide and after thinking about it, rushed to catch up to him. After all, it might prove unwise to allow the rest of the villagers to think that he was stalking him.
        After a short walk through the village, Ma'el led the way through a doorway which was set into the side of a large rise in the ground.
        Zo'or glanced upward outside the door and reflected that the mound was most likely a natural hill in which one side had been sheared away vertically by the native inhabitants. Long grass, scrub and trees competed for space on its top and large roots actually helped frame the doorway.
        Suddenly, the crude fabric which hung over entrance was swept aside and a dour looking woman stuck her head out. She glared fiercely at him and then withdrew as Ma'el's voice called out in the ancient Celtic language which the villagers spoke.
        Deciding that no human was going to put him off with a mere look, he clutched Braedan closer to his chest and entered the crude dwelling.
        It was as appalling as he had feared. The floor was nothing more than dirt, the interior walls and ceiling were nothing more than soil braced back by small wooden tree limbs and other smaller thatch. Crude furnishings were also derived from the parts of unfortunate trees. A small stone cooking area was placed beneath the only opening in the ceiling and smoke still collected near the overhead beams, stinging his eyes and making the infant in his arms cough.
        "Give the infant to me." The words were spoken softly, but in an authoritative voice which Zo'or instantly obeyed, despite himself. Instantly, he regretted so easily relinquishing his charge and made to snatch him back.
        Ma'el eluded his hands and turned away, moving towards the rickety chairs in front of the fire. "Do not be foolish," he chided over his shoulder. "This infant requires nourishment which Gobnait, my other, will procure for it. Before I hand him over to her care, I wish to study him more closely." Ma'el sat and held the infant up before him, a perplexed look transfiguring his face.
        In a daze, Zo'or moved to stand beside him. "Did you say that old the hag was your other?"
       Without sparing him a glance, the older Taelon continued his perusal of the baby. "Gobnait was not always old, narrow-minded one. Once she was young and beautiful and she has given up much to remain with me. I only wish the life we have shared had not been such a burden to her." His voice trailed off as he lowered the infant to his knees and raised amazed eyes to meet Zo'or's own. "This infant is of my line..."
       Zo'or nodded. "It is Da'an's child - one sired by a human male."
        Ma'el looked as though he had received the severest of blows. His features blurred and were replaced by his Taelon features, but his inner light glowed very weakly, flickering faintly before his human face once more appeared.
        With a shock, Zo'or realized that the elder Taelon was at the end of his days. He had perhaps a few weeks left to him - if that.
        A rare feeling of pity welled up within him and moving forward, he steadied the shaking scientist, going to a knee so that he could meet his eyes. "What is it which troubles you so? I also once thought it a terrible a thing that Da'an had mixed her line with that of a human, and yet I now believe...?"
        "That is not what has shocked me," Ma'el interrupted, as he visibly calmed himself. "So you once viewed such a union as terrible?"
        "I did, but no longer," he admitted. "The child is special - special enough to cause the Jaridians to seek its death."
        "Yes. And so you have landed in my time and place." Switching to the local language, Ma'el addressed his other, who then took the infant from him and left the dwelling.
        Rising slowly to his feet, the Old One shuffled to the door and stood there watching as the woman walked off and disappeared between the huts even as the first large drops of rain began to fall.
        "Fate is a cruel keeper indeed," Ma'el whispered.
        "What do you mean?" Zo'or was instantly on guard, afraid that some plot was afoot to separate him permanently from Braedan.
        Ma'el switched to English. "It was remiss of me to have only scanned your history during our sharing," he said with a shake of his head. "Tell me of Braedan's father. I gather that he was the red-headed human standing upon the stage beside my child?"
        "Yes. His name is William Boone."
        Only then did Zo'or notice that Ma'el was clutching at the back of a chair. It shook him to his core to see a tear slowly wind its way down the elder Taelon's face.
        "Sit yourself beside me," Ma'el continued after several moments spent trying to regain his composure. "We have much to talk about."

        Slowly shuffling his way into the audience chamber, Boone moved to the main console and paused to catch his breath. The truth of the matter was that Lili's fears were well justified. He was in bad shape.
        "You still OK?" she asked, looking him over critically.
        He straightened up and forced his face into a stony expression. "Only winded."
        "I bet. You do have a few busted ribs."
        "Great. What is it with me and my ribs lately? I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever have them all healed at the same time," he gasped, removing one hand from his crutch long enough to press it against his tortured side.
        "Think of it as the down side of the job." Turning away from him, she pulled out her global and activated it. "Is he here yet?" he heard her say to whoever was on the screen. "Well, go ahead and send him in already!"
        "Who have you sent for?" he asked, irritated by her duplicity.
        "The person who's been running the investigation while you've been laid up." She snapped the global shut and glared at him. "I dare you to say you're displeased with his work."
        He opened his mouth to retort when the tapping of approaching shoes caught his attention. Looking up, he was amazed to see Lazarus enter the room.
        Without hesitation, the man, a strange hybrid of Boone's own personality and memories merged together with his own, approached and looked him up and down. "You look like crap," he said matter-of-factly.
        Boone snorted, enjoying the blunt truth over all the sympathy he had been receiving. "Thank you," he said, with a rueful grin. "May I add that you are definitely not looking like crap."
        "Oh, this?" Lazarus raised an eyebrow and pulled his jacket open so that his shirt and tie were more apparent. "Just a little perk, care of my new employers."
        "You know - you never did tell me who those employers were..."
        Lazarus smiled. "No. I didn't."
        Seeing that no more information would be offered, Boone felt his eyes widen as a possible explanation for the silence presented itself. "Riiiiggghhhtttt....." he drawled. "I think I see what's going on..."
        "I'm sure that you do, but that's enough about me. Let's talk about your son and the investigation I've been heading."
        As Lazarus turned and headed for the large windows, Boone shuffled along at his side. "What have you learned?" he asked, as anxiety welled up within him.
        The pale haired man shook his head ever so slightly. "Not much, I'm afraid. Many of the Strandhill artifacts were destroyed or heavily damaged along with the monolithic portal. We can piece together the sequence of events leading up to the last Jaridian's death, but..." He looked Boone squarely in the eye. "You know that it would be virtually impossible to discover where in time the two of them have gone, even under ideal circumstances."
        Boone swallowed. "I don't think the artifacts would help us anyway. We have no way of telling what about them - or the world around us - has changed since Zo'or and Braedan traveled back. We've changed along with the time continuum."
        "I first thought that as well, Will." Lazarus' eyes remain steadfastly glued to his own. "Fortunately, in the time since the 'disruption', I've come up with a possible long shot which might help us to locate our two time travelers."
        Boone's eyes followed Lazarus' as they suddenly turned to take in the far entranceway.
        They widened when he saw Nivian standing there, her hands folded before her. Though pale and thin, she had a determined look on her face which instantly raised his hopes.
        Before he could move, she closed the distance between them and throwing her arms around him, hugged him soundly
        "Thank goodness that you're all right," she whispered near his ear, sounding perilously close to tears.

Naoise's Journal:

         What can I say of the things I learned from Ma'el the night I arrived within his time?
        That it shocked me to hear the bitter regret apparent in the tone of his voice when he spoke of his denial of granting his human other a child? That I was surprised by the self mocking laugh which he gave when he told me of his certainty that Braedan was the child he and his other should have had? That I was shocked by his absolute certainty that he had made a grievous error in assuming that it would not be prudent to allow the birth of a human/Taelon hybrid?
        Yes. I felt all those things and more. More than I can even convey within this journal. Time has dimmed much of the impact of that first night, and yet I can still recall the way all my past schemes and plans crumbled in the face of Ma'el's depiction of my people's true origins.
        I did not want to believe what I was hearing and made to run from the hut, but he was still quick for his age and desperation had leant him a surprising strength. As I attempted to pass him, he grasped my arm and forced upon me a sharing which left me shattered. There could be no doubt of the truth of what he was telling me, for Ma'el, the greatest archaeological scientist of my people, had uncovered the factual truth about the genesis of my people. He had dared to travel back to the home world - the original home world of my race and there pieced together the fragments of our beginnings amongst the decaying remains of what had once been a living planet.

        "So, you believe that Nivian's bond with Zo'or might allow her to more easily tell what has changed in our present reality?" William Boone had a worried look fixed upon the doctor even as he addressed Lazarus.
        The three of them were standing before the windows, as the sun set across the white monuments. Lili had already excused herself and gone on ahead to what was left of the Strandhill collection.
        "Think about it. The only ones who would retain any knowledge of the previous time line would be Zo'or and Braedan. They are out of the loop, so to speak, and therefore immune to the changes their presence in the past may have caused."
        "I understand that, but do you really think that Nivian's link with Zo'or can transcend time?"
        Nivian laid a hand upon his shoulder. "I believe that it may," she said in a barely audible tone. "I've had dreams - very vivid dreams which I cannot otherwise explain. It is as though I am living someone else's life - someone named Naoise."
        "Naoise?" Boone looked past her towards Lazarus.
        "I believe it's a Celtic name, but I've yet to uncovered any reference to it," the other man answered.
        Boone took Nivian's hand off his shoulder and held it with both of his. "Do you think that Naoise is Zo'or?" he asked.
        She shook her head and only then did he note how pale she looked and how dark the circles beneath her eyes were. "It must be," she answered simply. "The person whose life I am reliving cares for Braedan."
        His breath seemed to be sucked from him as she uttered the sentence and he couldn't help but convulsively squeeze her hand. "Is he...?" He literally ran out of air and could not finish.
        "He is thriving - in my dreams," she hastily replied, looking alarmed at his current state.
        As he pressed a hand to his side and struggled to breathe, Lazarus rubbed his back. "Hey come on," he encouraged. "Your son seems to have made it in one piece and the damned Synod Leader is apparently doing a good job of raising him. I really think that you should take a day or two and rest - in bed, or you won't be able to help him get back here where he belongs."
        He averted his face and wiped at his eyes. "You may be right about me needing a day or two," he eventually said. A sudden cough threatened to destroy his ribcage and he found himself lightheaded again. Controlling the grimace which nearly made him bite the insides of his cheeks, he turned back to face them. "But, where exactly in time does my son belong and are we doing the right thing by bringing him back?"
        Nivian's eyes widened in dismay at his words, but Lazarus dropped his head and looked away - a sure sign that he too had been thinking the same thing.
        "Then we'll do what we can to get them back," his strange doppleganger stated. "and fate alone will decide what Braedan's destiny may be." Pulling one of Boone's arms over his shoulder, he began to lead him from the chamber. "Come on. Let's get you up to your bed."
        Behind them Nivian sank onto the ledge before the window and dropped her face into her hands.
        Boone heard her quiet weeping as they left the room and felt his heart lurching painfully yet again. Would they have to sacrifice their loved ones for a greater good? What would he tell Da'an? She would surely understand, but would she be able to give up the fight if need be? She had only barely survived the attack at the news conference and the knowledge that their child was in trouble had been largely responsible for the fight she had waged against dying.
        Whatever would he do?
        "Just take it one step at a time," Lazarus whispered.

Naoise's Journal:

       We Taelon's have always believed that our destiny is of our own making - no doubt due to the fact that we exist as a species simply because we chose to. We tore ourselves free of our original forms, leaving behind those elements we found abhorrent. The baser instincts - greed, subterfuge, lust, hatred - all these we sought to abandon and along with them the physical forms which helped to perpetuate those urges.
        The elite among our species were chosen to undergo the process which would freed them from their original forms - evolving them into an enlightened and superior ruling class who would lead the others into the future. This journey forward would ensure that all of our kind would eventually evolve to follow them.
        It is said that if one looks hard enough, that every plan can be found to contain a fatal flaw. So it was with our plan for accelerating our own evolution.
        As each chosen member of our original species underwent the process and stepped forth from the light, a second new being appeared and stepped backward. My ancestors knew that there was the possibility that some organic remnant of their original form might be left behind, however they never expected it to live, let alone remain in a cohesive and sentient form. Their shock at such an unexpected outcome was obviously not enough to deter them from completing their agenda, for every one of the selected individuals were thus separated into the higher life form now known as a Taelon and an insane, atavistic version of their former selves.
        The atavistic forms looked more like the original individuals than their newer, Taelon forms did and each was taken in by their family and cared for as though it still were the being they had bid farewell to that morning. Ironically, the new Taelons refused to have anything to do with their families, having suddenly found themselves above such things as flesh, jealousy and hatred or even love, devotion and compassion.
        This reinforced the illusion that the devolved forms were all that was left of the original volunteers. The families slowly managed to rehabilitate the devolved shells of their loved ones and the abominations actually recovered the ability to speak and function - to some extent - within society. Unfortunately, at their core they were the polar opposites of the newly formed Taelons; lustful, hate-filled, devious and above all - vengeful.
        Meanwhile, the new Taelon ruling class began to form their own views of what the future should be. The rest of the population was soon deemed a burden - an insurmountable obstacle to their own evolution. While keeping up their expected task of running the government and giving the impression that they were bettering the planet, they began, at first quite secretly, to multiply so that an original two hundred Taelons soon gave way to four hundred. Not two years later we numbered eight hundred and by the time ten of our planetary rotations had passed, we Taelons numbered sixty four hundred. We had diverted resources to the construction of ships which only we planned to use and we had gathered together an army of loyal servants to protect us.
        Our planet of origin quickly became a military state, though this too was cleverly hidden from its people.
        On a clear, beautiful morning only a decade after our birth, we took to the stars, leaving behind a planet in chaos, its precious resources squandered, it's population left to either starve or kill each other for what little was left.
        Truly, our home planet was thought doomed and it was actually hoped that its population would quickly die off, leaving a usable planet which we might one day return to. Ah, if we could have but guessed...
        The planet was eventually abandoned by our primitive ancestors, but not before the atavistic castoffs of our birth began breeding with our original species. How this could have occurred is anyone's guess. Perhaps a new hybrid was first conceived as a result of rape and found to be the ultimate warrior. Perhaps the hatred the surviving population felt toward us led them to desire the birth of more such offspring.
        It matters not how it began. What does matter is that after many generations a new race emerged on our decimated home world - a race of powerful, remorseless, and vengeful warriors.
        The Jaridians.

        "Can you actually... feel him?" Boone straightened the pillows behind his head and tried to get comfortable. On the bed around him were scattered dozens of books pertaining to the history of the Strandhill area of Ireland.
        Nivian shifted in the chair which she had pulled up to the bed and traded her book for yet another from the bed. "Sometimes I feel as though he's right here whispering something to me - something I can almost, but not quite, make out," she replied.
        He gaped at her and had to make a quick grab for his laptop as it started to slide sideways towards the floor. "That's amazing," he said, searching her face for a sign of her current emotional state.
        "Actually, I find it very disturbing." Feeling uncomfortable in the face of his obvious concern, Nivian went back to skimming through the book. She'd had a good cry down in the audience chamber and then followed Boone and Lazarus up to the Implant's room. She knew that, like Boone, she had to keep busy - to feel that she was actually doing something which might lead to Zo'or and Braedan's return.
        After completing her perusal of the book, she exchanged it for yet another on the bed, this time taking a long look at Boone while he was engrossed with his computer screen.
        He looked better than he had downstairs, but that wasn't saying much. He was still too pale, still sweating around his scalp despite the fact that he was in bed. He was pushing it too hard, as he usually did.
        She stood up and blotted his forehead with a damp washcloth, causing him to sigh appreciatively before stiffening and gently pushing her hand away.
        "I'm OK," he insisted.
        "You know better than to lie to me," she said, unable to suppress a smile, "but I also know better than to try to slow you down."
        He snorted in a self mocking way.
        "Perhaps we should shelve this for now," she continued.
        His eyebrow rose. "I thought you said you knew better than to try to slow me down?"
        "I was going to suggest that I go get us some dinner while you check in with Lazarus - and more importantly, with Da'an."
        He looked troubled. "I'll check on her condition, but I really must see her in person before I can..." He faltered for a moment and ran a shaky hand through his hair before continuing. "Uh, break the news to her."
        She nodded and dropped the washcloth back onto the night stand. "In the meantime, think you can handle some soup?"
        "Make it a burger - the biggest one you can find. Oh, and fries too. My skrill is killing me here."
        She glanced down at the alien wrapped around and embedded in his forearm, noting for the first time that it was squirming. "I've never seen it do that before," she commented.
        He looked down as well. "I'm afraid that I've been so intent upon this research, that I've completely tuned him out. Now that he has my attention again, he's complaining," he winced. "Loudly!"
        She shook her head, still amazed at the odd, symbiotic relationship and then turning, started for the door.
        "Nivian?" he called out as she was about to exit the room.
        She turned.
        "How about two burgers? No! Make that three!"
        She shook her head again and laughed despite herself. "I'll see what I can do."
        It just a few moments she found herself on the lower level of the Embassy, though she could not recall having walked down the central ramp. Her mind was wandering again - badly. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on simple tasks, her thoughts kept straying back to Zo'or.
        Angry with herself for being so non-productive, she set out in search of one of the aides. Originally she had planned on going out for the food herself, a small freedom that Zo'or never would have allowed had he been there. Unfortunately, she feared that her current inability to concentrate on any one task might result in an accident. Best that someone else make the run.
        One of the younger aides, a man named Grant, crossed her path and ended up with the assignment.
        As soon as she had given him the order and thanked him, she turned in the direction of her room and after retrieving her heavy coat, made her way to the garden. She figured that the food wouldn't arrive for at least a half hour and she could no longer deny the compulsion she had to sit out on her favorite bench.
        The night was calm but frosty and a little snow still clung to some of the grassy areas. Walking to the bench, she brushed it off and sat, wrapping her arms around herself. The sky was beautiful as only a clear, Winter sky could be. The heavens seemed to be draped with the blackest velvet and lit with thousands of small pinpoint lights.
        It was so clear that the slight, milky hazy of the galaxy's edge was visible and to her right, the pale blue gleam of the distant mother ship.
        Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden beauty of it all.

        Zo'or leaned his head back and stared at the night sky as several emotions warred deep within him. The undeniable beauty of space made him ache for the chance to experience it from a ship while at the same time overwhelming him with the sensation of how insignificant he truly was in the grand scheme of things.
        Someday, in the future, Nivian would look up at this very sky and see the very same thing he did tonight. A millennium or two would cause no significant change in the night sky of this lone planet.
        Nivian.
        What did she - what WOULD she think, what would she do when she learned of his plight? To have won her, to have grown so close to her, and then to have lost her so suddenly had seemed to have opened a tear in his physical substance. At first it had been as though he were slowly bleeding away to nothing - as though he were slowly dissipating.
        Ma'el had not allowed him to simply travel on to the void. The elder Taelon had made it clear to him that he had some small role to play in the future, even if it were only that of raising Braedan.
        He shifted on the fallen tree he was using as a bench and looked down at the journal he clutched in his hands. His fingernails dug into the crude leather cover. Real fingernails - not illusion, not any longer.
        Time was a strange thing - reminding him almost of a living, free floating liquid. Change the boundaries and the liquid moves to fill the new shape. The molecules within it are scattered and swirled by the motion - unable to do anything but comply with a greater physical law.
        What might already have happened to the future he once knew? To Nivian? To his fellow Taelons?
        He had taken great pains not to disturb the history which had once existed in the hopes that it would exist again. He had even changed his own name and embraced a human existence - dressing like the rest of the villagers, attempting to live as one of them and raising Braedan amongst them. True, he was still treated as a high ranking priest and revered most especially by the older villagers who still remembered his arrival, but all in all most accepted him as one of their own.
        Again he looked down at the journal in his hands and turning the crudely fashioned book over, ran his fingers over the coarse cover. This was his one hope of preserving the future he knew and still providing clues concerning his whereabouts.
        If it survived long enough to be found -
        If the time line wasn't so distorted that the Strandhill collection no longer existed.
        If Nivian or Boone - or any of the others saw the journal and were even capable of noticing that it did not belong with the other Strandhill artifacts...
        A very human sigh escaped him.
        The odds were against him ever getting back, of ever seeing Nivian again.
        But he had to try. More than that - whatever happened, he had to take care of Braedan.
        Rising to his feet, he pushed the journal into one of the concealed pockets in his robe and started back to the village.

        It was late in the evening when Boone finally summoned the strength and courage to return to the home ship.
        Slowly he made his way through the maze-like corridors, nursing his side and leg until he finally arrived in the medical area. The place was now highly secure, with "volunteers" loyal to either Kha'rha or Dro'vha standing guard at key locations. They all silently let him pass by them and in just a few moments, he found himself entering the doorway to the chamber in which both he and Da'an had been treated.
        Rounding the privacy wall, he was startled by the sight of the blue tank.
        It was empty!
        "Will." The voice was Liam's.
        His head swiveled instantly to his left and a sigh of relief escaped him.
        Da'an was lying in the small bed he himself had used not twenty four hours ago. Her features were somewhat blurred, but she appeared to be merely sleeping. Liam sat at her side, his face strained and his eyes bleary with fatigue.
        Boone slowly approached and clapped a hand on the Kimera hybrid's shoulder. "Thanks for watching over her," he whispered. "Go ahead home to your bed. I can take over now."
        Liam stood and nodded. "She asked for you as soon as she came out of the tank," he whispered back.
        "I'm surprised that she's out already."
        "The medics wanted her to stay in it, but as soon as she was conscious, she insisted on being sprung. She's been pushing herself too hard - insisting on joining you down on the planet. The truth is that she didn't even have the strength to summon you. She's exhausted and Kha'rha somehow managed to calm her to the point that she closed her eyes. She's been sleeping for hours."

Naoise's Journal:

        It was with a shaken voice that Ma'el revealed to me his theory that Braedan was the child he should have had. It was almost impossible to at first absorb his revelation that his other was a direct ancestor to William Boone. That woman - that hunched, shriveled being with the scowling face related to the large, imposing ex-police captain?
        Over time, as I grew to know the woman, I came to see how very alike the two of them were. Both devoted entirely to their Taelon companions and yet also seeking to serve the greater good of both races.
        In Braedan then, we had the mixing of two very specific genetic lines - those of Ma'el and Gobnait. Who can say if Ma'el's theory is right, if Braedan was meant to exist in this time and place?
        Did fate see to it that he would by twisting reality back upon itself to accomplish it?
        More importantly - does this mean that he can never return to his original time?
        Time itself will answer that question!
 

       Zo'or poked his head outside the hut and watched with some amusement and pride as Braedan bested the other boys at a throwing game. It was hard to believe that the child was now into his fifth year. Had they really been here that long?
        With a sigh he signaled to Siabh, who stood near the young ones, laughing at their antics. She in turn gave him a flash of a smile and then moved in to collect the boy.
        "Braedan," he could hear her saying. "It's time to retire."
        Although Braedan did not look pleased, he turned his head in Zo'or's direction and nodded. Bidding his friends good-bye, he started back towards the hut with Siabh in tow.
        Zo'or watched them approach for a moment, then withdrew into the hut. His eyes swept over the interior. It had once been Ma'el's residence, but with the elder Taelon's death had become his own. In her grief, Gobnait had remained with him for a time, but within months she had sickened and embraced the void herself.
        He was settling himself into the chair before the fire when Braedan and Siabh entered. The boy immediately approached him, threw his arms about him and kissed his cheek, leaving him hard pressed to stifle a smile as one of his own hands came up to muss Braedan's red hair.
        "Did you see me win the game?" the child asked, his phosphorescent blue eyes twinkling with excitement.
        "I did," he admitted. "Very well played for one so young."
        Braedan's smile widened, then suddenly disappeared. "The others say that I won only because of the blood I inherited from you."
        "Did they?" he asked, pulling his adopted child into the chair beside him. "Do you believe them?"
        "I don't know," Braedan replied solemnly. "I have never seen you throw a rock."
        Though he did not laugh outwardly, he temporarily lost control of his facade and blushed blue - an event which rarely occurred anymore. It took a moment for him to regain a serious demeanor. "Your victory in that game is due entirely to your human blood," he finally admitted. "Your biological father was very athletic."
        The boy's face became grave. "Will you tell me now how he died?"
        Zo'or shook his head and pulled him close. "You are not yet ready to hear the story, however, I promise you that it will not be much longer before you do."
        Braedan wrinkled up his nose. "You always say that."
        "And I always mean it."
        "I know that we are lost."
        "Lost?" He drew his face back and narrowed his eyes, pretending he was confused, although he already had a good idea of what the boy was about to say.
        Braedan placed his hand on Zo'or's cheek. "Sometimes when I touch you, I feel things..." He looked worried. "I know you understand what I'm describing. I can see through your eyes."
        Zo'or sighed. "Tell me what you see."
        "I see a man and I know from you that he is my father. You called him Boone."
        "Continue." Even to his own senses, Zo'or's voice sounded small. It seemed that the time for answers was at hand.
        "And I see a being like you, a Taelon. You called her Da'an. Is she my mother?"
        He bowed his head. "Yes. She was your mother."
        Braedan looked close to tears. "Was? Is she also dead then?"
        He stood up and lifted the child, carrying him towards the small loft which housed his bed. Placing him gently upon it, he leaned over and brushed his hair back. A terrible pain was overtaking him - a dread of wounding the child. Yet he knew he could not lie - Braedan would easily know it if he did. "You are correct. We are lost, however we are not misplaced. We are lost in time. Relative to us, your parents live in the future and the means we used to escape a dangerous situation has left us stranded here with little chance of return."
        Braedan's face crumbled further. "I'll never have the chance to see them?"
        Something twisted inside himself and Zo'or felt the unaccustomed sting of tears forming in his eyes. "It is unlikely, yet not impossible," he attempted to reassure the child.
        "You were there at my birth. Your mate gave me life."
        "Yes."
        "And that day we arrived, you saved me," the boy sniffed.
        "Yes."
        "You've always taken care of me."
        "And I always will."
        Then the child was in his arms, hugging him tightly and pressing their cheeks together. "I love you Naoise," he whispered. "I'm glad the others think you're my father."
        Tears did escape him then as a nameless mixture of both joy and grief threatened to overwhelm him. He hugged Braedan tightly and initiated the sharing which quickly revealed everything leading up to their arrival in Strandhill. He allowed the boy to see it all, from the Taelon arrival on earth, to his own first meeting with Boone, to his power-hungry machinations and face offs with Da'an.
        He revealed his past and waited for the boy to reject him.
        Instead Braedan hugged him even more tightly.

        It was pain and the return of an almost mind-numbing fear which eventually caused her to focus once more on the world around her. Starting suddenly, she felt herself cry out both mentally and verbally, only dimly aware that it was Boone's name she called.
        In the next second, a warm hand stroked her cheek as her mate took her other hand in his and held it tightly.
        "Shhhh," the deep voice soothed. "You're safe. You're going to be all right."
        She opened her eyes and her shuddering subsided as Boone's face appeared before her. Somehow she managed to find the strength to whisper a response, "Safe? There is no safe place. Not here, not anywhere in this star system. The Jaridians have arrived and we are not ready to fight them."
        Her large mate looked away, but it was clear even to her addled senses that he was momentarily somewhere else.
        "Then perhaps Braedan is safer where he is," he finally murmured.
        That jolted her into a more focused state. "No! You must retrieve him." She struggled to sit up but Boone's strong arms forced her back down upon the mattress. Unable to fight him in her weakened state, she eventually calmed herself and grasping his arms, reached out through their link.
        <"Allow me up and escort me back to the Embassy,"> she ordered. Although aware of the hurt that shot through him, she was beyond caring at the moment, certain only that without his help, she would not see their child again.
        Still, he resisted her, his mind the stronger at the moment, his physical form less damaged and his thoughts better organized. After a brief mental struggle, she again found herself defeated.
        Helpless in what could easily have become her deathbed, had her willpower failed, she was unable to contain the horror which crept over her when he began asking the questions she dreaded to answer. How could she respond, when he had only thought the best of her?
        He leaned over her, holding her hands tightly between his own, her body pinned by his greater weight. They were chest to chest, his face only an inch from her own. "Why were the Jaridians after Braedan?" he asked, the intensity of his stare mesmerizing her. His pupils had become mere pinpoints. Even as his grip on her loosened and became more gentle, his words cut her more deeply. "They were after you and Zo'or - there's no doubt of that, but they wanted you very badly and they went out of their way to eliminate our child. Why?"

        Boone was horrified when Da'an stared back at him with an expression at once empty and hopeless.
        When she spoke, her voice was hollow. "Before leaving our home world a raid was carried out upon one of the nearest Jariadian strongholds. Several Jaridians were captured in order to provide us with test subjects for use in an important experiment in regression."
        "Regression? Again?" he was momentarily baffled, but as though the outcome of her words no longer mattered, Da'an pushed on with her explanation.
        "It was my experiment," she confessed. "My theory was that Taelon and Jaridian might be reunited in such a way as to restore our ability to reproduce without significantly regressing us. This was before Zo'or's birth, when we thought no other Taelons would be produced. As you know, he turned out to be the last of our kind. At that time, I was of low rank - a student not yet affiliated with any caste. Still, my parentage and my research gained me the favor of the scientists. My theories were therefore given much weight and I was invited to oversee what I was led to believe would be a minor project." She sighed. "You cannot hope to imagine the shock I received when twenty three Jaridian captives were placed in my care. An equal number of Taelons were also... volunteered."
        He felt his hair standing on end and dreaded what was about to be revealed. Still, he had to ask, "What happened?"
        "Several procedures were developed to introduce Jaridian characteristics into the Taelons. All were failures but one. We suceeded in introducing material harvested from one Jaridian into the major pathways of a Taelon." She blinked, then blushed a deep blue.
        Boone felt light headed. "As with Rho'ha and Johnson?" he asked.
        "Even so. The effect was startling. The Taelon regressed ever so slightly and then, before our very eyes assumed a stronger, more matter-based form. Within a few planetary rotations, he had suceeded in melding with another Taelon. Not long after that his chosen one birthed a child. It became the first of many such produced children to follow. Still, we were left no better off. Although the hybrids resembled us, they were also far different from us. They could not be looked upon as a continuation of the Taelon race."
        Da'an pushed him away and sat up, groaning as she did so. He made a move to stop her when he saw she meant to rise, but the deadly look she threw him stopped him in his tracks. Swinging her legs over the bed, she eased to her feet and moved slowly towards a control panel on the wall. "The new race developed quickly, briefly bore shakarrava and proved to be geniuses when it came to inventing new technologies," she said over her shoulder as she entered a personal code into the keypad, then touched her palm to the ID scanner. "They were intelligent, strong and extremely manipulative. Would you feel safe in guessing what we named this new race?"
        His mouth seemed frozen. He was barely able to breath the words," The Kimera."
        Da'an stepped aside, allowing him to see the data and images which now scrolled across the screen. It was a record of the creation of the Kimera. "There is more," she continued as he numbly scanned the quickly scrolling pages. "Once the first Kimera was birthed, I was no longer deemed necessary to the continuation of the project. I was commended for my aid and then dismissed."
        "What happened to the Jaridians?"
        "Once they had served their purpose, they were executed."
        Boone made to stand, but his legs gave out, causing him to collapse awkwardly back into his chair. "Were you still part of the project when they were slaughtered?" he asked, his voice harsh and accusing.
        Da'an blushed briefly and dropped her eyes.
        "Da'an! They were sentient beings - an offshoot of yourselves! Bad enough to have used them the way you did - how could you justify such treatment?"
        She seemed deeply shaken. Indeed, her fingers were working quickly, jittering together before her. "You must understand that I was not the person I am now. All my youth I was told of the atrocities the Jaridians carried out against my kind. I was left in no doubt of what would happen to us when they found our new home world." She took a few steps toward him and then stopped. "You will never know how deeply I now regret that fact that I did not speak out against their elimination," she said, in a pleading tone.
        He took a few deep breaths and attempted to calm himself, despite the fact that his heart was racing furiously. "What happened to the Kimera?"
        "After my dismissal, I learned of their plight only from Eh'har's parent, Deh'r. The hybrids were allowed to believe that they were an accepted part of us. We entrusted them with the design and manufacture of our ships and scientific equipment, but secretly the Synod had declared them to be a liability. It was felt that we could not afford to allow our enemies to capture them - to gain any further advantage.
        "So you destroyed them all, except for Hag'el," he hissed bitterly.
        Da'an slowly shuffled back towards him, an almost insubstantial spirit in a pale gown. "I did not know what was to come," she said, her expression pained. "By that time I was a true member of the Scientific Caste, but not privy to Synod secrets. Until recently, I believed that the Kimera had betrayed us, that they had sought to contact the Jaridians. It was Zo'or who finally told me the truth - that the Kimera were destroyed because they were deemed to be superior to us. The Synod could not and would not let such knowledge surface."
        She sat gingerly on the bed beside him and bowed her head forward, then continued speaking while trying to make eye contact. "How could they ever admit that as a species we were incomplete - that without the capacity to feel emotion we were stagnant - sterile to our core?"
        He found himself looking away as he clenched his teeth together and willed his stomach to settle.
        "Zo'or also told me that my sibling, Quo'on, unbeknownst to the Synod, managed to save over fifteen Kimera."
        He swung around to stare at her. "How?"
        "He sent them to Ma'el."

Naoise's Journal:

        I write the following knowing that it will be of keen interest to at least one person who might read it.
        I have already written of Ma'el and his human other, Gobnait. The following will help to clarify several of the convolutions I live with daily and must attempt not to disturb.
        Before becoming attached to Ma'el, Gobnait birthed a daughter, who was then raised by another family in the village, for it seemed that the little milk she herself produced would not sustain the infant. It was thought best that the child go to a small family comprised of a couple and their four young boys. The woman who nursed her desired a daughter and had been told by a village seer that she would bear no further children. Having plenty of milk to see her year old son through and a new babe, she gladly took in Gobnait's daughter and raised her as her own.
       The child's name was Siabh, the very woman who now lives with me and has both nursed Braedan and helped me to raise him.
        When she herself was just entering her fourteenth year, she brought forth a son whom she named Buan. All would have ended there, with her living out her life with the man she was attached to and any children they produced, but for a terrible occurrence.
        When her child was but a week old, she left him with her adoptive mother and went out in the woods to meet with her lover. They were caught an hour later in a terrible storm which had been brewing the better part of the morning and as the two of them began making their way back to the village, a copse of trees gave way to the wind and fell upon them.
        Her family was frantic when she did not return, but the storm in its intensity made all hope of an immediate search impossible. The following dawn brought both light and clear skies to Strandhill and a large party set out to find the missing couple.
        They were discovered shortly after. Her lover was dead - killed outright by a tree, but Siabh clung to life. Placed upon a litter, she was carried back to the village. Ma'el, at Gobnait's request, healed her as best he could, but though the lifeforce he transferred to her gave her the strength to pull through, her injuries left her maimed for life.
        With a shattered right hip, cheekbone and jaw, she was both disfigured and lame. She was eventually able to walk again, but only after several years and then only with a slow, ungraceful limp. Her face, once quite lovely, I am told, now frightened people away, leaving her with no hope of finding a new mate.
        Unable to care for Buan during her protracted recovery, he was given to her lover's family, where he received both sustenance and care.
        Living in her adoptive family's home, unable to work as anything other than a wet nurse, she was derided by many as a worthless shell. The only reason she was not offered up for sacrifice was two-fold; firstly Ma'el had had succeeded in all but eliminating that barbaric ritual, and secondly it was thought that she would blight the harvest, rather than ensuring it.
        I arrived with Braedan three years later and it was to Siabh that Gobnait brought the child to be nursed.
 

        "He's not a child any longer, Zo'or. You can't command him to live his entire life alone. He needs friends! I don't understand why you're so afraid to let him out of your sight." Siabh finished placing the bowls upon the table and ladled a portion of meat and potatoes into each.
"You do not understand my reasoning," he sighed. "We have spoken of this before. I cannot explain it to you - you must simply believe me when I say that it is very dangerous to both Braedan and to me for him to interact with others. He understands my reasoning and yet he still defies me. He is being very foolish."
        She moved to the crude doorway of their hut and called out for Braedan to come in, then returned and took a seat beside him. "He's not like you," she said softly, in an accusing tone. Her eyes remained on her bowl as she continued. "He needs the company of others. He cannot live his life in this hut with only us as companions. You must understand how hard such a life would be on any human."
        The hurt in her tone once again made him defensive. He knew how she felt about him, but even if he were trapped here for the remainder of his life, he was bound to another and could never be what she wanted. He would have reminded her again, but just then Braedan entered.
        The boy was eight years of age and already showed every sign of one day being as large as his father. He positively dwarfed the other village boys his age and was treated with respect by those far older. In addition, many girls were already taking an interest in him, an event which left Zo'or in a terror. Whatever whould he do when the boy matured sexually? Unless he could make Braedan aware of the danger he represented to the time stream, all would be lost - the future altered beyond recognition.
        Taking his seat a the table, Braedan greeted them and then fell to his meal with his typical enthusiasm.
        Siabh ate slowly, now and again giving Zo'or a quick, but timid glance.
        Zo'or looked down at his bowl and sighed. Potatoes once more - how he had grown to despise them! Spearing a piece of venison, he nibbled at it, relishing its taste. There was something powerful in consuming the substance of that which had once been a living creature. Potatoes on the other hand were dirty little balls of... oddly textured starch. He had never liked them and had only grown to hate them more during each winter. They tasted... dead. On the other hand, green vegetables he could tolerate. They had a living quality like the meat. Unfortunately, they were very scarce this time of the year.
        Slowly he picked at his food, consuming very little and biding his time while Braedan demolished his own meal.
        When the boy was done he automatically reached for Zo'or's bowl and polished off his potatoes, earning a disapproving glare from Siabh.
        Moments later when all the bowls were empty Zo'or addressed the woman. "I require few minutes alone with Braedan."
        Rising, she took the bowls from the table and went outside to clean them.
        Turning, he looked his ward up and down, finding himself secretly amused by the boy's return of his stare. "What trouble have you and Buan gotten into today?" he asked.
        Braedan laughed. "None, at least not today, but there was a moment where I thought Buan was going to beat Ciaran for allowing a ewe to wander away."
        He nodded. "You know that I have spoken with you about the importance of not influencing those around you. I believe that the time has come for you to stop seeking out Buan's company."
        Braedan was dumbfounded. "How can befriending him change the future? I have not influenced him away from any decision he has made."
        He stood and bid the boy to move to the chairs by the fire with him. Once they had settled down, he continued. "It grieves me to cause you such distress," he said in a low tone. "You know that I wish you only happiness, however you must come to see the truth of our situation."
        "I know our situation," Braedan shouted, interrupting him. "All I have heard from you lately is that I must not do this, I must not do that. I must not talk to this or that person. I must not be seen. I must not be!" His eyes began to fill with tears, which he angrily wiped away. "I am here now. This is my home! I have a right to live my life... don't I?" he pleaded.
        Zo'or looked down at his hands, which were gripped tightly together. "You are in imminent danger of changing the future, Braedan. Surely by now you must have connected Buan with your own father. I know that you can feel the link as I do. By interacting with a direct ancestor, you imperil your own existence."
        "What if I am meant to be here? What if something I do now helps to prevent the Jaridians from winning the conflict you told me of?"
        "It is impossible. Over the years, I have given it much thought and concluded that your real place is in the time we came from."
        "And how did you come to this conclusion?" the child scoffed.
        Zo'or lifted his head and pinned him with eyes which he knew were glowing intensely. "If you do something now which unites Humanity and the Taelons upon our arrival, then your mother, Da'an, will never regress. She and Boone will never join and you will not exist. Therefore, you will not travel back, the timeline will fragment and a paradox will produce a singularity which swallows this section of space and time. All will be lost - humanity, the Taelons, the Jaridians and indeed our entire history before the split. It will be as though we never existed."
        Braedan stared at him in shock. "How can you know this? It's nothing but speculation - there is no proof such things can occur!"
        He sighed. "But they do. We have encountered them in our travels -  huge rifts in space called 'wormholes'.  When we venture near them we experience flashes of events which leave us half mad. It is the reason why Taelons do not tempt fate by travelling through time."
        "You're only telling me this to frighten me!"
        "No. I tell you this because I wish for you to live."
        "You only care about returning yourself to the future!" The boy accused.
        Quick as lightening, Zo'or's hand shot out and gripped his clothing, pulling him close. Grasping Braedan's hand, he forced a sharing even as he hissed, "It is too long since last we did this. You are forgetting what you are!"
        They froze as together they relived selected experiences from his past. He showed the boy the wormholes he had described and let him feel the terror of their phantom events - apparitions of things which had been and yet did not exist. He showed Braedan his parents, their love for him and the hope his birth represented.
        And when he felt the child breaking - crying in his soul for what he had lost and what he could not have, he extended to him his deepest trust by sharing with him the secret he had kept his entire life...
 

        Braedan witnessed Zo'or's birth, watching in wonder and fear as Deh'r struggled to prevent his child from claiming too much of his substance for himself. Da'an's adoptive parent, Xe'em was present and in the end it was his aid which saved Deh'r's life.
        "I did not want this!" Deh'r groaned, as his internal pathways began to come apart, ripped in two by the emerging child. "I was a fool to succumb!"
        "Hush now," Xe'em replied. "Soon you will have a new child. Your feelings will change then."
        "No! They will not! This child has whispered within my mind and thoughts for the entire time I have hosted it. It has influenced me in ways which leave me shamed!" He groaned more loudly, and then cried out. "I will not raise it! It is not a Taelon!"
        Braedan was stunned. Zo'or, still connected directly to his parent, had perfect knowledge of what was said at his own birth. How had this twisted him? To know the loathing his own parent had for him!
        "Concentrate, Deh'r," Xe'em commanded. "It is time to end this labor."
        "I will not raise it!" Was Deh'r's final shriek as he dropped Xe'em's hands. A large portion of his form billowed out of his abdomen and gently settled into his waiting arms. Even as he doubled over and sank to the floor, the new one arranged itself into typical Taelon form, becoming a squirming infant.
        Xe'em knelt down next to him, and apparently fearful that he would harm the child when he saw what it had done, took it from his arms. The infant was twice the normal size of a Taelon new-formed and Deh'r had been greatly reduced by the ordeal. Standing and moving to the door, Xe'em opened it and called in Deh'r's parent, entreating him to help his own offspring into the energy stream.
        Deh'r's parent gaped at the infant as he entered the chamber, while Xe'em moved out to the abode's common area.
        Even as Braedan digested the intimate knowledge of Zo'or's beginnings, the scene shifted and he knew from Zo'or that they had moved back in time.
        Deh'r walked slowly from his laboratory through the streets of the city. He was on his way home and yet in no rush to arrive.
        As he passed under the arches which spanned the alley a few blocks from his dwelling, a figure stepped out of the shadows and began walking beside him. He stopped and the being stopped with him.
        "What is it you wish?" he asked, as a sudden wave of fear passed through him.
        The stranger was obscured by shadow and yet his inner luminescence partially revealed very pleasing features. "You," he replied, reaching out to take Deh'r's hand. "I want you."
        As the stranger's hand gripped his own, a sudden desire consumed Zo'or's parent. Never had he felt such a need!
        In the next instant the two forms were joining and Braedan watched with astonishment as the strange Taelon suddenly changed. It's body shifted from an aqua to a brilliant deep blue, it's features blurring and shifting. It resembled a Taelon and yet...
        Just then Deh'r caught a glimpse of it's true face and screamed, "Hag'el!"
        The sharing ended and he found himself suddenly enfolded in Zo'or's arms. They clung together for long moments until he lifted his head and looked his adoptive parent in the eye.
        "Hag'el was a Kimera?" he asked.
        Zo'or nodded. "The only one to escape both slaughter and exile. He managed to elude capture long enough to beget several dozen hybrids, but he was eventually imprisoned."
        "What happened to his offspring?" He thought he could guess, and the possibility he might be right horrified him.
        Zo'or confirmed his suspicions. "They were all eradicated. All but me. My parent's pride would not allow him to admit that he had succumbed. Though he would not raise me, neither would he reveal my parentage."
        "Why did you show me this?"
        "So that you would know that you are not the only one who walks a lonely path."
        Braedan studied him. Zo'or's eyes revealed a deep seated pain, his face vulnerable. Though he knew that his Taelon guardian had been hated and despised for much of his existence, Braedan could not see anything remaining of the power hungry youth he had once been.
        Why Zo'or was hardly even Taelon anymore!
        He still retained his ability to share, but he rarely blushed and when he did, it was but a pale glow seen below his skin. Somehow over the years he had regressed to a form which was primarily matter based.
        He moved out of Zo'or's embrace and stood up on wobbly legs. His head was literally swimming with information. "I'll stay away from Buan," he mumbled, as a deep sorrow for the loss of a friend consumed him.
        Then, not wanting his adoptive parent to see him cry, he turned and ran from the hut.

        "Anything?"
        Nivian shook her head and placed the small pottery piece back down amongst its kin in what was left of the Strandhill exhibit.
        Boone found himself scratching his head and turning a circle in his frustration. They had systematically gone through every object left in the ruined museum room and Nivian had felt nothing. The only thing which gave off any sort of a sensation that Zo'or had been near was the remains of the portal.
        Lazarus walked over to him from where he he had been scanning the portal. "What now?" he asked.
        "Now we pack up our things and move to Strandhill itself," he replied.
        Nivian stood and dusted off her hands. "Once we get there, I'm certain that I'll get some impression as to where to search."
        "Yeah. Well, I hope so. The place is large and undercut with what could turn out to be hundreds of crypts." Seeing the lost look which swept over Nivian's face, Boone quickly added, "Still, I'm certain that Zo'or would have taken that into account. If he wants to be found, he'll place clues in areas we're likely to search."
        Nivian relaxed somewhat as Lazarus nodded and cleared his throat.
        "You wouldn't happen to trace your family roots back to Ireland would you?" he asked.
        "No. I think that I'm from Scottish stock. The family supposedly moved from there to Cape Breton. What makes you ask?"
        He shrugged. "Just wondering if there was a connection."
        Boone gave him a measuring look and then dropped the subject. He had other things to concentrate on right now - like contacting Kha'rha and Beckett.

        Siobhan Beckett strode quickly into the audience chamber of the Dublin Embassy. She had been called back at her Companion's request, despite the fact that it meant dropping what she had been doing - which was closing in on a criminal she had been hunting for days. She knew that he would not have insisted on her presence unless something very important had come up. That in itself made her nervous.
        She couldn't help fearing that perhaps the Synod had again decided to reassign Kha'rha. Lord knew what she would do then!
        As she rounded the arch of the chamber's main entrance, she saw that her Companion was sitting serenely in his chair and her worse fears instantly dissipated. When he was upset, it was the one place he was never to be found in.
        Moving to stand directly before him, she bowed and made the hand gesture of greeting.
        He nodded to her and then smiled. "Siobhan," came his deep, soothing voice. "We are to have company late this afternoon."
        She waited patiently for him to elaborate further.
        "Da'an, Boone, Nivian and the one known as Lazarus shall be arriving tomorrow morning with a contingent of archeologists to reopen the Strandhill dig."
        She knew that her mouth was hanging open and closed it. "Re-open the Strandhill dig?" she repeated. "Why? Surely there is no need to further desecrate the burial mounds."
        Kha'rha rose and stepped down beside her. "There is every reason to do so," he said, taking her arm and steering her towards the window. "It's time that you learned exactly what happened the night that Da'an and Zo'or were attacked."
        She felt her heart skip a beat. "Was Zo'or killed? Is that why we've not seen him these past days?"
        "No, he wasn't killed."
        Beckett knew that the official account of what had occurred at the press conference was not true, but she, like almost every other Implant, had been unable to determine what exactly had happened. Security was especially tight, with even Companion Protectors left guessing. She knew only that Da'an, Boone and Liam had been seen, as well as Marquette. Nobody, to the best of her knowledge, had actually seen Zo'or.
        Staring her Companion in the eye, she waited for him to continue.
        "The truth of the matter is that both Zo'or and Braedan have escaped certain death by traveling through a portal and into the past."
        "Strandhill's past?" she asked.
        "Yes. The portal was then destroyed by one of the Jaridians."
        "This makes it impossible for them to use the portal's former self to travel forward?" She was confused, and it showed.
        "Ma'el locked the controls on the portal during his later days," Kha'rha explained. "He felt that it was too likely that one of the humans he had come to know would somehow figure out how to activate it. It will not unlock itself until many years after he journeys into the void."
        "So then... the dig is being re-opened in the hopes of pinpointing their place in time?" she reasoned.
        "Yes." He fixed her with a concerned look. "Have I ruined your investigation in calling you back?"
        She shrugged noncommittally.
        "Have you made any headway?" he pressed.
        "I tracked him to Aveiro, Portugal - that was easy enough, but I have very few leads on where they may now be. I was just checking out a report about a couple fitting their description who were seen stealing a man's bag at Heathrow in London."
        He nodded. "Perhaps Agent Sandoval will contact us. He has every reason to trust me, if not you."
        Her face must have given away the hurt she felt at his words, for he placed an arm about her shoulders and pulled her close.
        "I'm sorry," he added. "I meant only to say that he is certain that I will not turn him over to the Synod. I did not mean to..."
        "Quit while you're ahead," she interrupted, as she buried her face against his chest.
        He patted her back. "Will you see to it that the Strandhill Officials are notified and that guest rooms here are readied?"
        "Of course." She straightened up. "It will be so good to see Boone and Da'an again!"
        He lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her lightly on the lips. "And it will be so good to see you cheered up."

        "Agent Lassiter, has Commander Boone returned to the Embassy?"
        "Yes Da'an. He returned quite some time ago." Lassiter became concerned. "Would you like me to confirm that he is still here?"
        "That will not be necessary." Deactivating the data stream, Da'an dropped her arm heavily back onto the mattress and stared up at the skylights above.
        He was back and had not come to her.
        She felt her heart lurch painfully at the rejection and rolled onto one side. It was to be expected that he would be upset. He had just discovered that she was far from being a perfect being. Worse than that. He had found her lacking in an area in which he himself excelled - compassion. In his eyes she had broken one of the biggest taboos - she had not only allowed people to be exterminated, she had condoned it.
        She kept her eyes fixed upon the doorway.
        He would come to her, of that she had no doubt. He would forgive her - it was in his nature to do so.
        Minutes ticked by, then an hour.
        Still she did not sleep. Still he did not appear.
        "Perhaps my past actions are beyond forgiving," she thought. "and he can no longer feel anything for me but revulsion."
        The thought was too much. No - it could not be so! He too was wounded. Damaged in body and soul far worse than he had wished her to know. He was no doubt hiding in his office, attempting to come to terms with all which had occurred.
        Again she felt a terrible pain wash over her. He had chosen to be alone in his misery. He had shut her out - even to the point of clamping down on their link.
        Rising gingerly from the bed, she threw a blanket about her for extra warmth and slowly made her way out of the chamber. As she had surmised, Boone was in his office, slumped over his desk.
        He was clutching one of Braedan's stuffed toys in his hands and the sight of him with it caused a great tenderness and longing to well up within her.
        She quietly took a seat next to him and watched as he slept.
        In sleep his face, though pale, seemed relaxed and untroubled, making him seem so much younger than his current physical age of twenty eight years. His hair was neat, as it always seemed to be and in the dim light of the room seemed more brown than red.
        Reaching out, she gently ran her fingertips through it, stroking his scalp carefully and soothing whatever dreams he might be having.
        He stirred just long enough to whisper her name and she felt as though her heart would burst for need of him.
        When had she learned to love? When had that emotion firmly taken root within her and become a necessity? It had perhaps started the day Boone had outmaneuvered Zo'or and thus given her back her chair as North American Companion. It was at that point that she too had taken a risk - putting her own newly recovered position on the line by deciding that Boone's company was far more important to her than her status.
        When had she first realized how deeply her affection for him ran? Most definitely the night Hag'el nearly killed him. When she had thought him lost a part of her had nearly died.
        But when had she ever told him how she felt? Their sharings must have communicated her true feelings to him, however humans were known to desire verbal affirmations.
        Focusing once more on his face, she was startled to see that his eyes were slightly open, watching her.
        With a gasp of discomfort, he pushed himself upright and then stood. "What are you doing out of bed?" he wheezed, putting a hand on the desk to steady himself.
        "I could ask the same of you," she replied with a smile.
        He pressed a hand against his side and sat back down, apparently dizzy from standing too suddenly. "I'm not the one who was at death's door just forty eight hours ago."
        She took his hand and lifted it to her cheek. "Time spent in the energy stream has accelerated my healing."
        There was a silence between them then as they held each other's gaze. Each was on the verge of saying something which they could not quite bring themselves to.
        It was Boone who finally acted. Pushing his chair back, he held out his hand to her and whispered, "Come here."
        She went to him and was pulled onto his knee as his arms enfolded her.  He buried his face in her neck and nuzzled.
        "I know that you're not the person you once were," he murmured. "And I know what it must have taken for you to tell me the truth earlier." He lifted his head and met her gaze. "My respect for you has actually grown. Very few people are capable of changing as you have."
        "And yet, it was a terrible shock for you to see what I was once capable of," she said, pushing for him to admit his disappointment.
        His eyes never wavered. "Yes, it was. A part of me feels so... bruised. I don't know how to describe it..."
        "Betrayed?"
        He looked away briefly. "In a way."
        "There should be no secrets between us."
        Boone nodded gravely.
        "Then tell me what you have been keeping from me."
        He nudged her off his knee, stood up and paced the length of the room before returning to stand before her. "What if Braedan is meant to remain where he is?" he asked, after taking a deep breath.
        She stood as well. "I do not see how his presence in Strandhill's past might have altered our present situation in any noticeable way, let alone in a positive way."
        Boone put his hands on his hips. "But how would we know? What if this is his destiny - and Zo'or's?"
        She fixed him with a cold look. "Are you proposing that we leave our child where and when he is?"
        "Da'an, it can't be a coincidence that both he and the Kimera are there with Ma'el," he reasoned. "All I'm saying is that we need to research this carefully and be prepared to leave Braedan if we must."
        She turned her back to him and clutched at her own fingers. This was a hard thing to hear, especially since she herself had been agonizing over it earlier that night. Could fate be so cruel as to grant her a child and then take him from her?
        Still, when had her life ever been predictable?
        "You will decide nothing without my say," she demanded.
        His hands came down on her shoulders. "You know I would never do such a thing," he accused as he turned her around to face him. "And you must know that under any other circumstance I would take on a Jaridian army to get him back!"
        She couldn't help but smile slightly. "Yes. Liam told me what happened to the Jaridian who confronted you."
        His eyes smiled, even though his face remained grim. "Remember that you're the one who told Liam that Taelons don't tempt fate."
        She slipped her arms around him and laying her cheek against his chest, sighed. "There is truth in your reasoning - and the truth is sometimes difficult to accept."
        Boone hugged her tightly for a moment and then swept her up into his arms.
        "William! What are you doing?" she asked, startled.
        "Taking you back to bed."
        She protested, "You are injured and I am quite capable of walking!"
        "I don't think that this will kill me. You're light as a feather." When she stared at him as though he had taken leave of his senses, he laughed. "That's just another human saying. Now hang on."
        She wrapped her arms around him and held on tightly, savoring the contact during the time it took him to limp his way back to their chamber. Once he reached the bed, he tossed her unceremoniously into it's center and undressing quickly, joined her under the covers.
        As he gathered her close, she pushed herself up on an elbow and looked down at him. He was perspiring as well as breathing hard.
        "I'm all right," he assured her, apparently realizing that she could see him quite well in the dark.
        Grasping the hem of the blanket, she slowly blotted his face dry before leaning down and kissing him tenderly. When she was done she met his enraptured gaze and and finally said, "I love you."
        The result was most pleasing, as he smiled and pulled her closer still.

        Zo'or stood near the stream for a long time, lost in thoughts of Nivian and what could be - if only he were with her. Time stood still as he tried to sense her through their severed link.
        Nothing.
        He then concentrated on memories of her face, her voice, her smile.
        Yes, she was still there. His memories of her were so clear that it brought a fresh sense of pain to him - as though he had only just this moment lost her.
        Finally he shook his head and turning, set off towards the village. It was non-productive to dwell upon this. He would probably never see her again - he would most likely remain in this primitive place, surrounded by savages for the remainder of his life.
        Which would be a long time indeed.
        It was fortunate that he had Braedan to keep him company. There was no sense in denying that he loved the boy. He would risk almost anything to keep him safe. Braedan was the child he himself had never and now would never have.
        He stopped in his tracks at that thought. Had he given up hope of rescue already? A sigh escaped him then. Such hope would only lead to more disappointment. What would be... would be.
        For now, it was his task to do his best to preserve the future.
        He began walking once more, suddenly aware of how cold and damp the night had become. A fine mist was falling and it seemed that he stood a good chance of being caught in a downpour.
        Quickening his steps, he turned in the direction of the path through the woods.
 

        Twenty minutes later he entered his hut to find Siabh waiting anxiously at the entrance.
        "You're drenched!" she exclaimed, as she began pulling his wet outer garments off him. In a flash, she had him down to his suit and sitting in a chair close to the fire.
        "What were you thinking, going out so late at night?" she scolded. "And without so much as a single hide to keep you warm!" She draped said skin over him and then knelt down beside him. "Naoise, I was worried half to death!"
        Zo'or looked at her then. Yes, her face was badly damaged, but it did not completely eclipse the beauty that was once hers. She loved him - he knew that and not for the first time felt guilty that he could not return her love. She was a good woman, as far as humans went and she had helped him raise Braedan as though he were her own.
        He noticed how pale she looked - she had tears drying on her face, and pitied her. Reaching out a hand, he cupped her face, wiping at a tear track with his thumb.
        "You must not worry about me," he whispered. "I've told you that before. There is very little in this place which can harm me and I will live still when even the grandchildren of this village are dust."
        She shivered and covered his hand with her own. "But you've changed since you came here. You've lost your magic - I've seen how you must now seek food and warmth and water just as the rest of us do. Even now you shake with cold. You must take care!"
        He snorted and made to take his hand away, but she held it firmly. "There are few who would mourn my passing," he groused.
        Siabh's eyes widened. She kissed his palm and then released his hand. "Braedan and I would mourn you. Think of what our lives would be if you left us. You must not speak such things!"
        "It's late and I tire." He stood up and moved towards his crude bed as he added, "Good night."
        Climbing onto the pile of hay which was sewn into a hide covering, he covered himself and turned to face the hut's dirt wall, effectively cutting off any chance of further conversation. Behind him he could hear Siabh tending the fire and tying the entrance skins closed. In a moment she would seek her own bed and quickly fall asleep, leaving him free to rise once more and write his journal.
        Minutes ticked by and yet he did not hear her retire. As best as he could tell, she sat in one of the chairs before the fire. He began to get frustrated at the delay and contemplated ordering her to bed.
        Then she did rise, but instead of heading towards her bed, she seemed to be heading towards him! A second later he felt her slip beneath the cover with him and rolled to face her, determined to give voice to his outrage.
        Siabh was ready for the move and throwing an arm about his neck, kissed him on the mouth.
        Outrage gave way to shocked surprise and then...
        He melted.
        His anger vanished along with any  thought of speaking. Reaching out, he encircled her with his arms and pulled her against him as he kissed her back hungrily. He realized that she was naked and that made his sudden desire flare up higher, like the stirred coals in a fire.
        As her arms reached around him and began working the fastening of his suit open, he rolled her onto her back and slid down to shower kisses over her breasts - the same breasts which had once nourished Braedan.
        Braedan.
        He was sleeping just a short distance away.
        Zo'or pushed away. "No," he whispered. "Braedan..."
        "Is a sound sleeper." Siabh pulled him back and kissed him again as she peeled his suit down his arms.
        Lost once more in the new feelings which overwhelmed him, he rolled onto his side, and began exploring her form with his hands as they continued kissing.
        He wanted her. He needed her.
        Badly.
        It was then that memories of Nivian intruded.
        After a momentary internal struggle for control, Zo'or forced Siabh's hands away. "I cannot..." he began.
        "Yes, you can - now that you're built like a man." She made to touch him again, but he stopped her.
        "I am bonded to another," he hissed.
        "Then where is she?" Siabh stared at him accusingly. "You've mentioned her now and then, but in all the time you've been here I have yet to set eyes on her. She is dead, isn't she?"
        He knew he looked stricken. In point of fact Nivian did not yet exist, but that was something he could not tell this woman.
        Her face softened. "She is then," she murmured, "I'm sorry for you, but you've mourned long enough. A life lived alone is not a happy one - I know that. Be with me now." She cupped his face and pulled him to her for another kiss.
        Again desire began to get the best of him and again he lost control, rolling her over so that she was beneath him. He wanted...
        Zo'or froze.
        He wanted Nivian.
        All his ancestors help him! He couldn't fall prey to this human weakness! He couldn't endanger the timeline!
        Rolling quickly off Siabh, he sat up in the bed and began groping around for his suit.
        When she made to reach for him, he held a hand up. "Stop!"
        "Naoise!?"
        "Listen to me now, Siabh," he hissed as he began to dress. "I can never be your mate. That is no reflection on you. It simply is a fact."
        "I don't understand..." she said, her voice breaking.
        "I belong to another and although she is not here - although I may never see her again, I cannot mate with you."
        "You are being foolish!" she protested, raising her voice.
        "Perhaps. However, I have little choice."
        "Don't do this! You want me - you love me. I know it!" she cried. "Don't throw away..."
        "Want you? Yes. Love you?" He interrupted. Fully dressed, he rose and turned to face her. "Love a human woman stupid enough to meet her lover outside during a storm?" He laughed, but there was little humor in it. "Siabh, your recklessness cost you your mate, but mine could cost me the world itself!"
        She lurched to her feet and pulled her robe on. When she met his eyes, her own were full off tears. "You do love me," she insisted. "You took me in and cared for me when no one else would."
        He sighed. "I needed help with Braedan and you were available. I do not and never will love you as you wish I would. What happened just now was but a momentarily weakness."
        Siabh's face crumbled then. Without bothering to even grab a wrap, she tore the entranceway flaps open and disappeared into the night.
        He moved quickly to the doorway and called out her name, but there was no reply. It was impossible to see in the heavy downpour and after a minute he gave up and secured the flaps to the best of his ability.
    She would return in time, he reasoned - once she had calmed down and come to realize that he had done nothing more than tell her the truth of how things stood between them.
        Attempting to still his rapidly jittering fingers, he moved to his bed and stared down at it.
        Impossible to sleep there now!
        Instead, he wrote in his journal and then, bringing a blanket with him, climbed into bed beside Braedan.
        Outside the wind began to howl and the rain picked up. Snuggling up closer to his ward, Zo'or pulled the blanket more tightly around himself and stared at the doorway. He found himself shaking as though he were cold and wondered what was wrong with him.
        His thoughts kept straying back to Siabh, to what they had been doing together - to the way her skin had felt against his own.
        It was a long time before he slept.

Naoise's Journal:

        Siabh is lost to us. She left in the dead of night during a storm and was found drowned in the river several days later.
        Although I admit to being saddened by her passing, Braedan has been inconsolable. Despite his mature demeanor, the loss of the woman he thought of as his mother has devastated him. He has withdrawn into himself and will not speak, nor will he leave the hut.
        I fear that he blames me for her death and this troubles me more than I care to admit.  Though the villagers have always held me in a superstitious light and regarded me with fear and distrust, their opinion has not concerned me in the least. Besides, they have always treated me with respect.
        Losing Braedan, however, would make my life here intolerable and that is what I fear is happening. He is my only connection to the life I once had. He is more than that even. He is my child.
        I only wish I could protect him from such pain and suffering.

        Boone forced himself to relax in his seat and waited until the shuttle had completely stopped before throwing off his restraints and rising. His excitement at traveling back to Dublin had peaked as soon as they had emerged from I.D. space and he could feel an adrenaline rush washing away the pain of his injuries as well as the exhaustion of the previous two days.
        Despite the lateness of the day and the imminant loss of daylight, he was aching to get out to the Strandhill site and begin the process of reopening the dig. Still, he would be willing towait until morningif need be and instead settle for Kha'rha and Beckett's company. it would be so good to see them!
        Offering Da'an his arm, he escorted her from the shuttle and then turned to help Nivian down.
        Lazarus brought up the rear, stepping out with their pilot and their luggage.
        For a moment Boone was troubled by the intense look on the man's face. It left him with the feeling that something was really bothering him.
        Before he had a chance to ask Lazarus what was wrong, they were met by Kha'rha, Beckett and several Embassy employees and all thought of Lazarus fled his mind as he turned to greet his friends.
        "Welcome," the Irish Companion greeted. "As ever, think of this Embassy as your own."
        Da'an greeted him with the proper gesture of respect even as Boone and Beckett thumped each other on the back and then embraced, each testing the other's ribs.
        Finished greeting Da'an, Kha'rha moved on to Nivian and startled her by taking her hand and raising it to his lips. After kissing it, he ran his thumb gently over her small fingers in a gesture at once gentle and intimate. So dumbfounded was she that a smile made its way to her face despite the stressfulness of the circumstances.
        "Please follow me inside where we may discuss the 'project' in more comfortable surroundings," Kha'rha encouraged, as the doormen took the luggage and moved on ahead of them.
        In just a short while they found themselves in a grand dining room which Kha'rha had long ago had furnished in an old, Victorian style. It was both beautiful and comforting, especially since the table was set and steaming bowls of soup had already been ladled out for them.
        Taking seats, they wasted little time in tasting the soup at their host's insistence. Boone found himself relaxing as the cold dampness of the outside was driven from his bones and commented on how cozy the room was.
        "It ws my goal to provide such a place for entertaining my honored guests while setting them at ease in my presence." Kha'rha explained. "It is a shame that I have not had as much occasion to use it as I had hoped. I hope you understand that I am therefore delighted to be able to use it now."
        As they ate and discussed the situation which had led them back to Strandhill, Beckett reported that she had located several crypts within the Strandhill area whose excavation might yield them answers.
        Much later, with their bellies full of good food and their heads full of new hope, Kha'rha showed them to their rooms. Gallantly he offered Nivian his arm and when she took it he patted her hand encouragingly.
        "Sleep soundly Nivian," he soothed. "Know that if there if any way to retrieve Zo'or and Braedan that we shall do so."
        "Thank you," she breathed, clearly caught off guard. For everything, I mean."
        Boone couldn't help but be amused by the way the Companion had charmed the normally shy Doctor and he found himself shooting Beckett a 'look'.
        Beckett in turn shot him back an insufferably smug one of her own.
        Da'an, Boone, " the Irish Companion addressed them, "Do not hesitate to make any of your wishes known. I trust that you, too, will pass a restful night."
        He followed Da'an's lead and bowed while making the sign of leave-taking.
        As Kha'rha turned and headed up the ramp towards his own chamber, Beckett also wished them a good night and then turned to follow her Companion.
        "Come on," he drawled, as he placed a hand against Da'an's back and steered her into the room. "We need our beauty sleep."
        She shot him a measuring look. "Speak for yourself. William. Still, I do feel strangely fatigued..."
        The door closed softly behind them.
 

        Further up the corridor, Beckett closed another door behind herself.
        "Do you really feel that spiking the soup with a narcotic was necessary?" she asked Kha'rha.
        He settled into his reading chair and picked up a book as he shot her a quick look. "Of course, Siobhan. We can't have them wandering all over the Embassy until daybreak. They will need to be rested and alert tomorrow."
        Beckette paused a moment and watched as he delved into the book."You just don't want your reading interrupted," she finally snorted.
        "Hmm? Oh yes - that too." he replied distractedly.

        Zo'or covered his face with his hands and slowly collapsed onto the dirt floor of his hut. The room seemed to spin about him and slowly faded to black.
        He regained consciousness slowly, at first confused about where he was or what had happened. The first thing he was able to focus on was the fireplace. It was dank and cold, for it had been twelve days since a fire had last burned there.
        His memory returned in a rush which left him again wiping tears from his eyes.
        Twelve days.
        Twelve days since his life had effectively ended.
        His arm dropped back to the dirt floor. He had no strength left to lift it.
        If only the rest of the villagers had killed him! Theirs was an odd society and unfortunately the elders had considered him within his rights to commit the act which had doomed him.
        No longer possessing a Taelon's ability to will himself into the void, he had stopped eating and drinking, wandering aimlessly about the interior of his cold hut. A human would have been dead within a few days in this cold, wet weather, either from hypothermia or dehydration. But no - that was not to be his fate. Still possessing some Taelon structure, he had lingered this long, suffering.
        He deserved to suffer, not that he wanted to.
        For what he had done was perhaps the worse thing he could ever have been forced to do.
        It gave him no comfort to think that he may have saved the future. He could only pray that the journal he had finally laid to rest the day before would be found and that this possible end would be undone.
        He no longer gave a damn about paradox.
        Again he drifted into unconsciousness.

        When he awoke, the dawn was breaking and a thread of amber light crept its way over his chest to his eyes. He could see the sun in all its winter glory, rising huge and red over the village.
        He was no longer cold. In fact he felt so very warm...
        For a moment he thought he saw Ma'el smiling down at him and patting his shoulder, but that could not be. Ma'el was dead these past ten years...
        Then something changed inside him. He felt a shifting - a fading away of reality as he knew it. In his mind's eye he saw Nivian finding his journal, but his last words were directed at another.
        "Braedan..." he whispered. "Forgive me..."
        And then he finally found peace.

        "Boone!"
        It was Nivian's voice on his open global channel.
        Pulling the device off his belt, Boone opened the screen to find the silver-haired doctor and Lazarus staring back at him with excited expressions.
        "What did you find?" he asked instantly, hoping for the best. He felt Da'an's strong hands close on his shoulders as she finished crossing the audience chamber at top speed. She was gripping him tightly enough to leave bruises.
        It was Lazarus who answered. "You two better get over here right away. We've discovered another burial chamber and Nivian is having memory flashes every time she gets anywhere near it!"
        "Has it been opened, detective?" Da'an asked.
        "Not yet. We're waiting for you."
        "See to it that you do." Before Boone could even close the device, Da'an was on her way towards the shuttle bay and he had to break into a jog so that he could catch up.

        Not five minutes later, Da'an took the shuttle out of Interdimension nearly on top of the Strandhill base camp's main tent. In just five seconds she had it on the ground and shutting down.
        Boone found himself whistling at the display of piloting skill. There really was nothing quite like riding in a shuttle being commanded by a Taelon!
        Jumping from his seat, he moved forward quickly, determined to get ahead of his companion. He succeeded, but just barely. Gently taking her arm, he held her back. "Take it easy," he soothed. "You're still healing up and another minute or two will make no difference to Braedan and Zo'or."
        She shrugged his hand off and moved away quickly none the less. "Come Boone," she said, sourly. "It may not matter to them, however, it does to me!"
        Falling into step behind, he followed her to an area in the clearing where a great deal of activity was taking place. In the midst of the crowd of archeologists and diggers they found Nivian, Lazarus and Beckett.
        "Proceed," Da'an immediately ordered Beckett.
        Spinning on her heel, the Irish Implant barked an order of her own and a second later there was a muffled boom. A cloud of smoke rose from a new hole in the earth about thirty feet away. When it settled, Beckett moved to the opening and stared in.
        Then she climbed down.
        Da'an was at the opening before any of the rest of them were and it was she who passed Beckett a lantern.
        Boone found himself holding his breath.
        When Kha'rha's Implant reappeared she looked shaken and pale. "Boone, you'd better come on down. There's writing which you must translate for me."
        "Taelon writing?"
        She nodded.
        "I shall go," Da'an announced.
        Beckett turned a pleading look upon him and he in turn confronted Da'an.
        "It's still too dangerous," he cautioned. "I'll go." When she looked like she would argue, he took her hand and made mental contact. <"I won't let you go in first,"> he projected sternly. <"and no amount of arguing or ordering will change that! Stay here and trust me to do this.">
       She looked angry, but then her features relaxed and she nodded her consent. He knew how hard this was for her, but if Beckett's expression was any indication, then all she would find would be bad news.
        With a final squeeze of Da'an's hand, he turned and carefully climbed down to join the other Implant, who led the way forward through a very narrow and low tunnel. As they moved along, her lantern eerily illuminated the soil encrusted rock walls, causing strange shadows to appear all around. It was as though the tunnel were attempting to reach out and grab them.
        Despite himself, Boone shivered.
        The tunnel descended at a moderate incline and fortunately for his nerves, ended approximately forty feet later by opening up into a chamber.
        He stood up straight, moved to the center of the crypt and slowly looked around.
        The small chamber had a ceiling made up of individual slabs of granite with similar slab forming braces in the walls. There was nothing to mark the grave as that of an important individual except for its actual construction.
        Finishing his perusal he realized that the tomb belonged to not one, but two people, for there were two coffins along the back wall.
        "Funny," he whispered. "I don't see any Eunoic writing anywhere."
        It was then that he noticed that Beckett was standing beside one coffin, her lantern raised over it and reflecting the strained look on her face.
        Moving forward, he looked inside.
        The coffin had no lid and within its deep cavity lay the body of a young adult, most likely no older than twelve. He wore period clothing as well as an ornamental hood over his head. Squinting in the dim light, Boone realized that the hood looked familiar.
        Without warning, his CVI kicked in with a memory intrusion which caused him to lock up.
        He recognized the hood. It was made of the baby blanket Braedan had been bundled in the afternoon he disappeared.
        "No..." The word escaped him, sounding like nothing more than a last breath.
        Reaching out, he snatched the hood from the skull and felt his stomach threaten to empty itself when a shock of brilliant red hair was revealed.
        A warm hand on his back steadied him as he staggered. It was Beckett.
        "Easy now," she soothed. "You knew you would not be finding him alive in this time."
        "Maybe someone else used the blanket - someone with red hair. I mean, most of the people around here had that hair color," he rationalized.
        Beckett pointed at something on the inside wall of the coffin and held the lantern closer.
        It read, "BRAEDAN FLYNN BOONE" in English.
        So, this was his son.
        "Boone!"
        Beckett's voice brought him back to the present. He had somehow blanked out for a second or two, because now she was standing next to the other coffin.
        "Help me get the lid off this," she asked.
        Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, he took a few long strides towards her and grasping the edge of the stone lid, heaved.
        Stone ground upon stone and then toppled off the edge with a loud thud.
        Inside the coffin were the remains of a man, not a Taelon!
        "What the?" Boone had noticed something else odd. Pulling back the shawl which was wrapped about the corpse, he uncovered a Taelon suit.
        Zo'or's suit.
        "This can't be Zo'or," he protested, looking at Beckett.
        "Well if it is, he certainly didn't age as well as Ma'el did."
        "He's buried in here with my son. I guess that it would have to be him," he finally admitted. "Besides, the skull looks... strange."
        She nodded. "It does indeed. Look, we have two people up above who can positively ID him if he is Zo'or. I say that we bring them down."
        At first he hesitated, but then he reasoned that by now Da'an surely had guessed what had been found in the crypt. He was about to agree with Beckett when a startled look crossed her face.
        Turning to look behind him, he was shocked to see that Da'an and Nivian were already in the room, standing beside Braedan's coffin. Swallowing hard, he moved forward and placed his hands on his Companion's shoulders.
        She turned haunted eyes upon him. "He did not survive to adulthood," she whispered.
        "We'll change that," he answered in a gruff tone.
        She looked beyond him to the other side of the crypt. "Is that Zo'or?"
        "We think it may be. Nivian?"
        She was already beside the other coffin and as they moved to join her, she placed her hand upon the skull and began crying silently, the tears running down her cheeks.
        "It is Zo'or," she choked. "He..."
        Da'an took her free hand. "Tell us," she pleaded.
        In reply, Nivian stared at them blankly and withdrawing her hands, moved over to Braedan's coffin. Reaching inside, she moved the cloth about and picked up an object before heading back to them.
        When she stopped before Da'an, they could see that she was offering them what appeared to be a book!
        "This is what Zo'or wished us to find," she muttered just before collapsing on the floor.
        In an instant, Boone and Beckett were both kneeling on the ground beside her. Beckett cradled her head as Boone checked her pulse and then gently rubbed her hands.
        "I think she's just passed out," he said, reaching for his global. In the next instant, he had called for the medic, who promptly arrived with a stretcher and two aides. In just minutes, they had evacuated her back to the nearest medical facility.
        During the medic's triage of his patient, Boone had retrieved the old book from the ground and now he, Da'an and Beckett stood in the field outside the crypt looking it over.
        A dry, cracked, leather cover protected the book and it was held closed with a crude red cord. When Boone untied it and slowly spread it open, they could see that it appeared to be made of crude paper which was carefully sewn together.
        Both afraid to manipulate the delicate, dry pages and at the same time anxious to read its contents, Boone very slowly folded back the first page.
        He and Da'an stared at each other.
        The book was written in the Taelon language, Eunoia!
        Beckett glanced at both of them. "So then," she commented, "it is written by Zo'or."
        "Yes," Da'an replied. "I recognize his hand."
        Beckett placed a hand on Boone's shoulder. "I need to return to the Embassy. Kha'rha has that conference to attend. Will you be able to manage?"
        "Of course. Go on," he replied, his attention still focused on the book.
        "Kha'rha has graciously put all his resources at my service," Da'an answered her. "Please see to your duties."
        With a nod Beckett wheeled around and left.
        Reaching out, Da'an gently took the book from him and slowly turned to the next page, and then the next.
        Anxiously he watched for a time and then finally lost his patience. "Are you going to tell me what it says?" he asked.
        Her gaze never left the book. "It is the journal of someone known as Naoise," she answered, still turning pages. "It is apparently the name Zo'or adopted in his exile."
        She turned the pages for a while longer and then froze.
        Boone felt a strong jolt of pain shoot through him and instantly cried, "What is it?"
        Da'an turned haunted, grief filled eyes upon him and began to read;

Naoise's Journal:

        Today my life has ended. I have lost the one person in this place that I...
        Best to come right out and admit it - that I love.
        Braedan is dead. His life lost in the worse possible way.
        I cannot live with this! I cannot! To think that I myself had to choose - that I had to be the one! I keep telling myself that it was the only way and yet I cannot forgive myself. My beautiful child is dead because I killed him.
        He is - was thirteen years of age and plotting to run off with one of the village girls. I had known of his affection for her for several years and yet every attempt to reason him out of such a relationship had failed.
        He loved her and his love for her had in the end caused him to resent me. As though it were my fault that we are here! It was the portal or oblivion.
        Braedan's attachment to the girl would have seriously compromised the future and in the end I had to choose between that future and him. I know that there is still a chance that all of this will be undone - that my journal will be found and we will be rescued long before this day and that is the only reason that I was able to carry out this abominable deed.
        My boy did not suffer. In the end he never knew what had happened or even that I was there.
        As he sat on the bank of the river awaiting his lover, I came up behind him and hit him over the head with a large stone. He collapsed instantly, unconscious and then I...
        I finished him with a knife through the heart!

        It is much later now and I feel that I may be able to continue writing this - my final journal entry.
        Afterwards, I held him and cried such tears that I thought I would surely die then and there. The pain in my chest, in my head was unbearable. Is this what the humans refer to as a broken heart? It must be, for it is the worst sensation in imagination.
        Not long after Braedan journeyed to the void, his love showed up. As she knelt beside us and shrieked upon finding him to be dead, I grabbed her arms and assaulted her mind. This part of my Taelon heritage has at least not abandoned me. I was able to see in her thoughts that she was not with child and that being the case, I pushed her from me.
        She scrambled to her feet and ran back to the village, crying out that Braedan had been killed.
        When the elders arrived and took him from me, I did not hide what I had done. I admitted it in the hope that they would have me killed. Foolish thought. They still looked upon me as a powerful, supernatural being.  Rather than condemning me, they announced that I had just cause to kill my child if he had not honored my rejection of his choice of bride.
        As I write this Braedan is being interred in a crypt worthy of a king.
        How ironic that it is their way of honoring me.
        I am not deserving of anything....
        In a short while I shall say my good-byes to the empty shell which once housed him. I shall place this journal in his hand.
        And then I shall go home to die.
        Below is a drawing of major monoliths and the sun's position at exactly mid day. By this means you shall be able to calculate the date.

        Da'an closed the book and leaned against Boone, wrapping her arms about his waist. He held onto her tightly.
        The two of them remained that way for a long, long time.

        By dawn of the following day, all was in readiness for the attempt at retrieving Braedan and Zo'or. Boone had easily figured out the year and day on which Zo'or had written his final journal entry. The rescue would be carried out so that they would be returned less than one year after their arrival.
        He would much have preferred an attempt on the very day they had arrived in the past, but Da'an had pointed out that they really had no way of knowing when Zo'or's first journal entry had been made. If they returned him before the diary even existed... Well, apparently all hell would break loose - or so the theory went.
        Knowing that the portal of the past was locked and could not take them home, Ban'hn had a portable one similar to the ID jump stations created. Consisting of three separate portions - two gate frames and a computerized brain, it could be easily carried by three people.
        Therefore three of them would have to journey back.
        Boone had already been told in no uncertain terms by Da'an that he would not be one of them. With their son lost in the past, she was not about to allow him to undertake so risky a journey himself. Lazarus would go in his place. The strange doppleganger had already volunteered and was more than eager to experience time travel.
        Likewise, Nivian's intention to go had been rejected, this time at Kha'rha's request. Although he could not fully explain why he believed it to be so, he felt that so long as Nivian and Zo'or's bond continued to span the centuries, the chance of creating a paradox was lessened. He therefore remained adamant that Nivian remain where she was.
        Upon reflection, Boone surmised that he meant that the bond would act as a sort of homing beacon. Even though it might be little more than a theory or a Taelon hunch, they all respected Kha'rha's wisdom too much to take any risks.
        Nivian would remain behind.
        Amazingly enough, Augur volunteered to go. He and Lili had arrived right after Boone's call informing them of the discovery. Fascinated as he was by all Taelon technology, the cyberwizard had absorbed as much information about the operation as he could and was begging to be allowed to go. Lili had been very clear about the matter - she was not about to allow him out of her sight. "With our luck he'd wander off to investigate something and miss the boat back," she had grumbled. Still, Augur had played his biggest card - that they needed someone who could repair the device should something go wrong.
        In the end the two Companions agreed that he should go. That's when Lili joined the expedition. "I'm not letting him out of my sight!" she exclaimed. "Besides, if something goes wrong and he gets left behind, I plan on remaining as well."
        The primary gate, which would serve to send them back, had been transported from the Home ship and it's set up took the better part of the morning to accomplish.
        Although Augur could be infuriatingly short on patience, in this case he showed admirable restraint.
        Boone had spent the better part of the time watching both the preparations and the reactions of those around him. Amazed by how calmly the cyberwizard had sat in a chair under the canvas canopy, he eventually pulled a second chair up beside him and sat down.
        "Aren't you just itching to get going?" he teased. "Come on Augur, I know you too well. Inside you're just dying to get the show on the road."
        Augur snorted loudly and made a big play of seeming put out, yet when he attempted to face down Boone's unimpressed stare, he lost control and laughed. "Yeah, all right - I admit it, but this boy intends to get home for dinner. These guys may be Taelon scientists, but I'm not about increase the likelihood of a mistake by making them nervous!"
        "Augur, Taelons don't get nervous."
        "That's what they'd like you to believe. You forget that I had a good look at Zo'or's face just after that Jaridian probe vaporized Kee'sha!"
        "Point taken." Rising to his feet, Boone dealt his friend a friendly slap on the back and withdrew.
        Walking the circumference of the archeological zone, he pinpointed Lili an Nivian. Both were sitting at a folding table with Beckett. The Irish Companion's chief Implant was apparently taking their minds off what lay ahead by teaching them a new card game.
        As usual she was winning.
        Moving on, he spotted Kha'rha talking quietly with Ban'hn near the primary portal and was surprised that Da'an wasn't with them. Instantly he realized that Lazarus was nowhere to be seen either and a suspicion began to form.
        If they hadn't left the site, they would both have to be in the mess tent about a hundred feet away. It was the only structure nearby with any privacy to it, except of course, for the portable loo.
        Moving towards its back wall, he got close enough to tell that a conversation was occurring within and driven more by curiosity than jealousy, he circled towards the open wall.
        He arrived just in time to hear Da'an raise her voice in alarm.
        "Lazarus, do not do this!"
        "I'm sorry," the man replied, as he reached out and gripped her forearm, "but I really haven't any other options left."
        She covered his hand with her own. "I know."
        There was an uncomfortably long silence while they looked at each other and then Lazarus withdrew his hand and with a bitter look behind him at Boone, turned and left the tent.
        Realizing that they had both known he was there, Boone moved to stand beside Da'an. "Sorry - was I interrupting something?"
        Her eyes remained on the other man's retreating back. "No."
        He became alarmed. "What's wrong?"
        "Nothing that can be corrected," she said, almost under her breath. With a troubled glance at him, she in turn left the tent.
        Boone stood and watched as she moved to join Kha'rha and Ban'hn, suddenly deeply troubled by the dark mood that seemed to have descended upon her.

        It was fast approaching four in the afternoon and a light rain had begun falling when Augur patted him on the back, drawing him back to the here and now.
        "Wake up, it's time to go," the cyberwizard announced.
        Lazarus sat back in his chair, only then becoming aware of how soaked his clothing had become. He shrugged. It made no difference in the grand scheme of things. Realizing that Augur was watching him with some concern, he stood and sighed.
        "I'm fine," he assured his friend.
        "You sure? I don't need to be baby-sitting you where we're headed."
        "Baby-sit me?" Lazarus snorted. "Come on - I'm coming along just to help Lili keep YOU out of trouble."
        They both chuckled and then they were being handed their gear. Lili joined them and Augur did a double-take.
        "Cher, that does not suit you!" he chastised, as he looked her up and down.
        Lili plucked at the coarse material of her robe. "Maybe not, but at least I'll blend in with the natives. So will Lazarus - he's also smart enough to have dressed down for this trip. You on the other hand will probably end up being sacrificed to ensure that some offended God doesn't make the crops fail!"
        "Phaaah!" Augur responded, apparently unwilling to change out of his black leather pants and silver shirt. "Chances are good that none of the natives are going to see me. I'm staying with the equipment, remember?"
        "Leave him be, Lili," Lazarus said, with a shake of his head. "As it stands, he'll probably be able to scare them all away from our equipment merely by standing next to it."
        Whatever the cyberwizard's response would have been, it was lost as Boone, Beckett and the Taelons arrived next to the gate.
        "OK," Boone announced. "Let's get this show on the road. Anyone having second thoughts?"
        They all looked at each other and shook their heads.
        "Good," the Implant continued. "Just do this the way we discussed and everything should work out. Good luck to all of you and thank you all for doing this for us!" He shook Augur's hand, but hugged both Lili and Lazarus.
        Lazarus shot a look at Da'an, hoping that she would at least say good-bye, but she remained standing silently behind Boone. Her eyes held his own for a brief moment and they were full of resignation. Perhaps he was deluding himself, but he thought that he saw sorrow and regret there as well.
        Then he was being handed a small backpack and his portion of the return gate.
        The local portal was activated.
         The landscape on the other side of it's archway looked normal and unchanged, yet it thrummed with power. Although he couldn't actually hear it, he could feel it in his bones.
        "We'll be seeing you in a few minutes," Augur said, just before he stepped through and vanished.
        Lili followed close behind.
        Lazarus looked at Da'an again, but her head was turned away. Then he too was stepping through...

        The rain had stopped. The sun had backtracked to a position it had taken earlier that morning. The sky was blue, the air crisp and chilly.
        They were still in Strandhill.
        "Wow..." Lili turned in a circle, her face full of both excitement and amazement.
        The pasture bore some of the landmarks of the field they had left, and yet only some of the landmarks were present. The major monoliths looked much as they had only a minute ago, though slightly less worn. It was the crypt stones which had changed most. Many of them were missing - most likely not yet in place.
        "Even the air smells different!" Lili pointed out. "Fresher, somehow."
        He sniffed again and had to agree with her. There was something almost electric about the crispness of it.
        "That's just the residual effect from the portal," Augur replied. "The energy bleed from our passage is what you're picking up on." He pointed towards a small hill. "Let's set up on the other side of that. We'll be pretty much invisible to anyone arriving from the village."
        Following behind him, they chose a level area where he had indicated and began placing their components. He and Lili took what they needed from their equipment bags and then handed them over to Augur.
        "OK, I'm all set," the cyberneticist announced. "You two might as well get the show on the road while I set our transportation up."
        "How long will it take you?" Lili asked.
        "Nothing's changed. Like I said before we left, two hours maximum."
        "We'll be back by then," Lazarus replied. "But even if we're late - stay put! Don't follow us. If we're not here before five, you go back through that thing and get help."
        "I know the drill." Augur looked uncomfortable. "Be careful, though. I don't want to have to leave this baby unattended, even to summon help."
        They nodded and began walking towards the village.
        Before they had even crested the ridge, Augur was back at work, everything else forgotten.
 

        "You see him yet?" Lili's voice whispered from directly next to him, causing him to jump violently.
        Lowering his binoculars, he gave her a sour look. "Not yet," he replied, before raising them back up to his eyes. "How about you?"
        "No, nothing. The trees are too dense on the other side. I couldn't see anything."
        They were lying on their bellies in the leaves at the base of the tree line, Lili having just returned from a trip to the other side of the village.
        He lowered the binoculars again and looked at her. "The village is difficult to see through. Those huts make for great privacy."
        "Then I should go in."
        "I think you'd blend in better than I do."
        Lili looked at his pale hair and shook her head. "Yeah, you could never pass for a local. Besides, you're too tall. At least I'm short and my hair is dark. There are a few people around with dark hair."
        "Don't talk to anyone," he cautioned as she got to her feet.
        "Don't worry, I plan on just making a quick trip straight through the center of town."
        Covering her head with a hood, she headed into the village at an unhurried pace, looking for all the world as though she had every right to be there.
        Lazarus put his binoculars away and waited, ready to cover her and run like hell if need be.
        In the end, he didn't have long to wait.
        About fifteen minutes after she left, she was back, an excited look on her face.
        "You found them, then?" he asked, as she squatted down beside him and looked back in the direction she had come from.
        Her face became troubled. "Yes, but you'd better brace yourself..."
        "For what?"
        "Zo'or lied to us in his journal. He led us to believe that if we traveled back now that we would be arriving only months after he and Braedan did..."
        He felt his eyes widen as Zo'or emerged from behind one of the village huts, a young boy of perhaps five years in tow. Shocked, he rounded on Lili. "This is unacceptable! What are you going to tell Boone and Da'an?"
        "What do you mean, what am I going to tell them?" she countered.
        He gripped her hand and made to drag her back towards the pasture where Augur awaited them, but she resisted and snatched her arm away.
        "Let go of me!" she hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"
        "We're going back so that we can arrive in the proper time!"
        She looked back towards the Synod Leader and Braedan, who were now hurrying in their direction. "We can't just cut out on them!"
        "I promise you that they won't remember a thing..." Again he took her arm and started to pull her away.
        Again she pulled free. "We can't!" she argued. "We don't know why Zo'or misled us. He might have had a very good reason!"
        "Yeah, I imagine that loving a child is reason enough," he snorted.
        "I don't understand."
        He explained, "The last thing that any parent would want is to forget the love of their child. Zo'or couldn't bear the thought that we would undo all his years with Braedan."
        They watched as Zo'or rapidly closed the distance between them and then found themselves staring at each other.
        "We can't take that away from him, Lazarus," Lili whispered. "No matter what he may have done in the past, we don't have that right."
        He sighed as he watched the Taelon swing Braedan up into his arms and carry him over the deepest of the bramble. The boy wrapped his arms about the alien leader's neck and held on tightly. "You're right," he conceded. "We don't have that right. Boone and Da'an will have to be thankful for getting their child back - even if they've missed out on his infancy."
        Then Zo'or arrived.
        "Lazarus," he greeted, looking him over. "You are the last person I would have expected to help mount my rescue."
        "It's Braedan's rescue as well," he replied. He held his hand out. "The journal," he demanded.
        The Synod Leader raised an eye ridge in surprise, but handed it over without a question. "You will need to know the language and customs," he warned.
        Lazarus hid the book in his shirt and then held his hand out, palm outward.
        Zo'or met it with his own.
        One minute later they dropped their hands and Lazarus shook his head to clear it. Already he was absorbing the information he had been fed and the sense of vertigo was lessening.
        "Wait! What's going on here?" he heard Lili ask.
        "Lazarus is remaining in my stead," Zo'or replied.
        He blinked and became aware of Lili's frightened expression as she stared at him.
        "You can't stay!" she protested.
        "He not only can, but he must," Zo'or explained. "Without someone familiar with my journal to see that it is completed and hidden, we will all be lost in a paradox large enough to undo everything. As it stands, this may well be risky."
        "It's all right, Lili," Lazarus tried to assure her. "I figured it all out yesterday. I have to be the one to do it - there is no one else."
        "What about one of the other implants?" she asked, nearly in tears.
        "We can't ask someone else to sacrifice themselves. In addition to possessing an Implant which has allowed me to memorize the diary, I have free will. I, unlike any other Implants besides Boone, at least have made the choice willingly."
        Her voice broke. "Boone knows?"
        He dropped his eyes. "No. He hadn't quite figured it out yet, but you'll have to forgive him his unusual slowness. He's had a lot on his mind, " he explained, trying to keep his voice even and amused. It still sounded strained even to his ears.
        "Da'an knew then? It wasn't Kha'rha who asked you?" She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.
        "Da'an never asked me. I volunteered. She was against me going, but Lili, surely you can see why it has to be this way!"
        She wrapped her arms around him then, hugging him close as the tears were finally unleashed. "I know," she sniffed. "I'm so sorry!"
        As tears began to well up in his own eyes, he swallowed and pushed her gently away. "So am I," he admitted, shrugging off and handing her his backpack.
        They stared at each other for a few seconds.
        "You'd best be going," he finally said, breaking the heartrending silence.
        Without a word, Zo'or turned and began walking through the woods towards the place where he had first arrived five years earlier. With a final sad look back at Lazarus, Lili turned and followed.
        He stood and watched them go, noting with amazement that Zo'or still carried Braedan, holding on to him protectively. The boy clung tightly to Zo'or and stared back over his adoptive parent's shoulder.
        On the child's face was an expression of such gratitude and admiration that it mad him bite his lower lip to stop it from trembling.
        He had accomplished something good after all. Somehow he knew that he would never regret his decision and that brought him a great deal of comfort.
        When he was certain that they were out of sight, he turned and headed into the village to meet his destiny.

        After his friends disappeared through the portal, Boone moved to Da'an's side and took her hand, gripping it tightly.
        There was nothing to do but wait and see if luck was on their side. If it wasn't, then Braedan would be lost to them, or worse yet - he would return and then they'd all be consumed by the one thing which terrified the Taelons even more than the Jaridians...
        Paradox!
        Boone forced himself to breath normally. All would be well, he kept repeating to himself. Their desire to see their son again would not destroy the world...
        The portal shimmered, drawing gasps from all around it.
        Then a leg appeared and Lili stepped through. She instantly moved aside and a new leg appeared - one that was covered in a crude woolen robe.
        Zo'or stepped through and he was holding a boy of about five years.
        Boone felt his mouth drop open when the child looked at him and had to force himself to close it. There could be no doubt that it was his son!
        At the same time that he felt Da'an's shock, Lili explained what had happened. "Zo'or doctored the diary so that we wouldn't rescue them until Braedan was five," she announced.
        It didn't seem to matter to Da'an. She was already collecting Braedan from Zo'or, and the two of them, mother and child, clung together in a sharing of profoundly tender proportions.
        He moved forward and threw his arms around them, reveling in the mental joining of his reunited family. Although Braedan was no longer an infant, his mind still joined theirs in a familiar way, striking a chord which nearly brought tears to his eyes.
        They were one. His family was whole once more.

        As Augur stepped through the portal, Nivian moved forward to greet Zo'or and immediately sensed that something was wrong. The Synod Leader seemed confused and distracted, barely noticing anything that was occurring around him.
        She stopped in front of him. "Zo'or?"
        Still, he continued to stare off into the distance, a look of terror slowly collecting upon his face.
        "Zo'or!" she cried.
        That seemed to get his attention. Starting suddenly, he seemed to focus on her.
        "Nivian?"
        Then she was on him, throwing her arms around his too thin form and hugging him tightly.
        He clung to her fiercely as well, his cheek against her own, but she could feel him shaking and felt his fear.
        "Zo'or, what's wrong?" she asked, drawing back to look at him.
        "I am back then? I am... back?" he asked, clearly still confused.
        She felt her heart turn cold with dread. Had his mind snapped? Could Taelons lose their sanity? She met Kha'rha's eyes and saw the worry on his face.
        "You're home," she assured Zo'or. "I'm here - really here with you and Braedan is here as well. You're safe!"
        His eyes were unfocused again. "No..." he breathed. "I am not safe. You should not have rescued me. You should have left me to rot away where I was!"
        Now terrified and aware that even Da'an and Boone had broken off their happy reunion and knew something was very wrong, she attempted to initiate a sharing.
        Zo'or immediately pushed her from him.
        "Do not do that!" he commanded, sounding once more like his old self. "Do not ever seek to unleash that which I hold within! It cannot ever be as it once was between us."
        As she stood there, stunned and near tears, he turned towards the others.
        "Come. I am weary of this place. It is past time that we return to civilization!" That said, he marched off in the direction of the nearest shuttle.
        Behind her there was dead silence for a moment or two and then people began picking up equipment and dispersing. She saw Kha'rha and Beckett moving towards Zo'or and the shuttle while whispering quickly to each other. Then she saw Da'an pass her. The Companion was carrying Braedan.
        "Wait! Where's Lazarus?" Boone suddenly yelled.
        Turning, she could see that he was almost frantic as he spun to face Augur and Lili.
        Da'an stopped dead in her tracks for a moment as Augur announced that the Implant wasn't coming back, then she slowly continued on her way, her shoulders suddenly sagging.
        "What do you mean, he's not coming back?" Boone's voice was rising.
        Lili stepped in. "Someone had to remain behind," she explained. "Apparently even Da'an was aware that this had to happen so that a paradox could be avoided."
        "What?!"
        "Boone, he has to finish writing the journal for Zo'or and when the time comes, he has to hide it where we can find it," she continued.
        "And where might that be?" he asked, suddenly confused. "I don't remember where we got it..."
        They scanned the area around them, completely confused by their lapse in memory.
        Nivian's eyes instantly went to the place where they had uncovered the diary. She could remember everything and their behavior was making her even more frightened than she had been.
        She gasped and nearly fainted.
        The tomb which they had unearthed was gone, the ground unbroken and even the marking stone had vanished.
        Behind her she could hear Augur explaining to Boone that Lazarus would also see to it that the portal they had transported was demolished and hidden. The three of them seemed to have completely forgotten even their conversation about the journal.
        So why was it that she remembered everything? Could it be that Zo'or did also? Was that why he seemed so... haunted?
        "Boone," she called out in a daze, "we need to be going."
        Looking dazed himself, the commander shook his head and followed her to the shuttle.

       Nivian sat beside Zo'or in the shuttle and tried repeatedly to capture his attention. By the time they were exiting interdimensional space above the Washington Embassy, she knew that she was fighting a losing battle.
        Despite Braedan's obvious joy and excitement at having his first shuttle ride, both Da'an and Boone kept shooting worried looks in their direction. They seemed keenly aware that something serious was happening to the Synod Leader.
        As soon as the shuttle touched down, he was out of his seat and out the door.
        As she made to follow, Boone clapped a hand on her shoulder and stopped her.
        "Let him go," he said. "He's been through a lot and maybe he just needs to work things out in his head."
        "That's the problem," she breathed. "He won't be able to work anything out. He's insane..."
        Stepping quickly out of the shuttle, she went after him, but he had already vanished. After a half hour of searching, she conceded that it might be best to let him come to her when he was ready. Security would notify them if he tried to leave the Embassy - Da'an would see to that. In the meantime, she would not be able to corner him if he did not wish her to.

        By the following afternoon, Nivian had given up on the idea of Zo'or seeking her out and instead went searching for him. Using their link as a type of empathic homing beacon, she finally cornered him in the tunnels beneath the Embassy.
        He, of course, was instantly aware of her presence.
        "Leave this place," echoed his voice in the dim corridor.
        Walking around a pillar, she spotted him leaning heavily against the wall.  "Why are you avoiding me?" she asked, slowly moving closer still.
        He pushed away from the wall and shoved her aside as he moved past her.
        Recovering, she went after him. "Answer me!" she demanded.
        He continued moving away from her, refusing to reply.
        Finally, driven by anger, fear and pain, she lunged forward and snatched at his arm. Her fingers managed to grasp the cloth of his sleeve and she spun him around to face her.
        She was not prepared for the sight which met her eyes. He was deathly pale, the area around his eyes dark and sunken. The biggest shock of all was the vacant stare and the obvious tears which ran down his cheeks and dripped off his nose. For the first time she noted just how thin he really was. He looked as though he were wasting away.
        Swallowing quickly, she tried to reason with him. "Zo'or, you must tell me what's troubling you. Surely we can face it together."
        He shook his head from side to side as a sob escaped him. "I cannot explain it," he finally managed to choke out.
        She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. In just a moment, his own arms encircled her and his head rested on her shoulder.
        He held her so tightly that she could barely draw breath.
        "Try to explain," she coaxed.
        "How did you find me?" he whispered.
        "We found your diary."
        He shivered violently. "Where?"
        She was about to respond, when she suddenly realized that she didn't know the answer. Drawing back a bit, she met his terrified gaze.
        "You don't know anymore, do you?" he asked. "Now that I have been brought back, time has rearranged itself, erasing all your memories of what happened to me after the time I was pulled from."
        Just trying to grasp that idea made her head ache. "Is that what's troubling you? Why are you so upset that a possible future in which you do not return for years longer, if at all, has faded away?"
        His eyes flared a brilliant blue even as a pale blush ran across his face. "Because I remember those years!" he wailed. "I am experiencing waking nightmares in which I am still there and for what I did, there can be no forgiveness!"
        He pushed her away and began moving back up the corridor.
        She began to follow. "Zo'or!" she yelled after him, "There is nothing to forgive! It never happened!"
        "It did!" he yelled back. "It did!"
        Then he was gone and she was left alone. She stopped and stood still in the dim corridor, shocked and unnerved by his behavior. It was so unlike him as to be mind boggling.
        "You do love me. You took me in and cared for me when no one else would..."
        The voice - a woman's sounded clearly in the corridor near her, yet when she spun around in a circle there was no one there.
        Nivian felt the hair on her neck stand on end and the corridor suddenly seemed icy and frightening.
        "Braedan forgive me!"
        This time it was Zo'or's voice echoing off in the opposite direction from that in which he had gone.
        More frightened than she had ever been in her life, she broke into a run and flew back to the Embassy in search of Da'an.

        "I fear that a paradox has been created." Da'an stood before the audience chamber windows, fingers jittering wildly, her agitation apparent in every aspect of her face and form.
        Nivian shivered violently. She felt as though she had been shaking for hours, yet she had been in the underground corridor only ten minutes ago. "But only Zo'or and I have experienced anything out of the ordinary," she whispered. "Braedan is OK, isn't he?"
        Da'an turned an alarmed look upon her. "He is with Boone and I feel no agitation. Still..." Turning, she moved to the ramp which led to her chamber and climbed it quickly.
        Nivian followed close behind, unwilling to be left alone for even a few minutes. When Da'an opened the doorway and stepped in, she followed.
        They both sighed with relief. Boone was fast asleep on the bed, his son cradled against his side. Both slept peacefully, their breathing deep and even.
        Again Nivian felt a jolt of shock run through her at the change in Braedan. Five years - he was five years old! Only a few days ago he had been a very small baby.
        As they left the chamber she placed a hand on Da'an's back. "How are you two coping with this?" she asked.
        Da'an spoke slowly, her words carefully chosen. "It is difficult in some ways and yet he is still our child. Our link with him has reasserted itself and despite his very strong attachment to Zo'or, we feel that he shall adapt well."
        "But what about you and Boone? The shock..."
        "Is wearing off," she finished. "In many ways I miss my infant, and yet I am so grateful that he is at least here with us."
        "I'm so sorry. I don't know why Zo'or misled us with regard to the last journal entry."
        Da'an stared at her. "Don't you, though?" she asked.
        "He didn't want what he had shared with Braedan to be lost?" she answered, still questioning whether her theory was correct.
        Da'an looked away for a moment and when she turned back there was compassion in her gaze. "He thought of Braedan as his child. Despite the hardship in remaining in your past, he could not bring himself to surrender those memories. None of us can blame him for that."
        They reached the audience chamber and Da'an took Nivian's hand. "Enough about us," she said. "Let us consider your problem."
        "Does the paradox have something to do with my link to Zo'or?"
        "I fear that it must." Da'an moved to stand before her datastream. "For some reason, Zo'or retains memories of events which have been negated by his rescue. Your linkage to a place in the parallel reality from which we launched the rescue has somehow helped to preserve a portion of that reality and Zo'or's past by creating a bridge between them."
        "What do we do? It's driving him mad - and no wonder. If what I felt briefly in that passageway is only a fraction of what he is experiencing, then we don't have much time left in which to save him!"
        "Let us consult Kha'rha. He first saw the possibility of your link carrying over."
        "How do you know that?"
        "It is why he would not allow you to travel to the past."
        "I have no memory of that!" Nivian whispered. "How is it that you do? Do you remember the rescue?"
        They stared at each other in shock.
        Finally Da'an spoke. "I do not remember anything other than that one event..." Reaching a decision, she waved the datastream open.
        Kha'rha appeared instantly. "Da'an, I feared that you might be contacting me," he said.
        "Then you are experiencing the anomaly as well?"
        "Yes. I recall events which Beckett has no memory of. Is this what is troubling you?"
        "No. Such things may be expected given the circumstances. We have a bigger problem."
        The elder Taelon nodded, even as his broad shoulders seemed to wilt. "Zo'or," he stated.
        "Yes. He retains memory of the alternate reality."
        "His link with Nivian..." Kha'rha stopped and looked uncomfortable.
        "What about our link?" Nivian asked.
        "Somehow he must break his bond to you. I surmise that once it is severed his memories will be lost."
        "Break our bond?" She was horrified. "No! There has to be another way!"
        "I fear that I cannot think of one," Kha'rha responded. "Somehow you both must find the courage to sever it while Zo'or is still able to." That said, he broke the transmission and faded out.
        Nivian turned frightened eyes upon Da'an, who gathered her close and did her best to comfort her.

        Braedan awoke with a start to find himself in strange surroundings. The Embassy. He was with his parents - back in his own time. Wiping the sweat from his face he sidled off the bed and stared at the man who still slept there.
        William Boone - his father. How strange to feel so close an attachment to someone who in many ways was little more than a stranger. When he had been enfolded in Da'an's arms an amazing thing had happened. All that she was and had been had become a part of him. He was a part of her, of his mother in a way that no non Taelon could ever comprehend. He saw everything through her eyes. He knew William Boone for the amazing man he was. In short, he remembered his prenatal development and everything after from both his perspective and theirs.
        It was a linkage which was at once stronger and more vivid than the one he shared with those humans he had grown to know. It was stronger, but not as vivid.
        Mentally shaking himself, he concentrated on a different link - the one he shared with Zo'or. Something was frightfully wrong! It was what had given him the unspeakable nightmares which had awakened him. Trying to feel along the link, he found that it was twisted and distorted. Any attempt to establish closer contact left him nauseated and ill.
        Quietly moving to the doorway, he slipped from the chamber and quietly made his way down the ramp.
        In the audience chamber, Zo'or's mate - the one named Nivian, cried in his mother's embrace. Squatting down on the ramp, he froze and listened to what was being said.

        He staggered down the path which led to the fountain, only dimly aware that he was out in the garden. Pressing his hands tightly against his ears, he tried vainly to shut out the voices which haunted him.
        "No!" he finally shrieked, as he again saw Braedan fall before him. The rock which wasn't really in his hands vanished at the same time that he collapsed to the cold earth. He lay on the icy concrete walkway for a long time as the cold slowly seeped into his limbs and numbed him. Better that he die now - that he fall asleep and never waken, for there was no other way out of this nightmare.
        "Zo'or."
        He opened his eyes at the sound of his name and saw Braedan standing before him. "Be gone," he groaned. "You won't be able to hurt me much longer."
        The boy moved forward and sat beside him. "I'm not a ghost," he said, reaching out to take his hands. "I'm alive. You didn't kill me. It never happened."
        He gripped the small, warm hands, despite himself, wanting desperately to believe that what he was being told was true. "I did do it," he whispered brokenly. "I see it, I feel it happen over and over. You're not safe with me..."
        Braedan pulled at his hands and he felt himself sitting up so that he would not lose hold of him.
        "Where are you, Zo'or?" the boy asked.
        "In hell. In hell!" he hissed. "I believe in that human superstition now!"
        The child looked alarmed, but then a determined expression came over his face. His grip on Zo'or's hands became stronger still and then...
        There was a shocking sensation as he felt Braedan invade his mind! The boy easily outmaneuvered him, slipping past his defenses and making right for the place where Nivian lived within him. Even as he realized what was happening, it was too late.
        His bond with his mate was severed!
        The sudden, unexpected rebound was horrifying, as a twisted fragment of reality unraveled and lashed about before ceasing to exist.
        Zo'or thought he heard himself screaming.
        Then there was nothing.

        Back in the audience chamber Da'an stiffened and cried out at the same instant that Nivian did.
        Upstairs, Boone sat bolt upright in bed and did the same.
        It took precious minutes before Da'an could think, let alone regain her feet. Braedan was in trouble!
        She reached down to help Nivian up and realized that the woman was unconscious. She would have to leave her for now. Moving as quickly as she could despite the lingering dizziness, she headed for the ramp which would take her to the central hub and from there to the garden. She was not at all surprised to meet Boone along the way.
        "What the hell was that?" he asked as he broke into a run and passed her in the passageway.
        "Braedan has severed Zo'or's link with Nivian!" She panted out as she attempted to keep up with him. It was little use - in seconds he was out of sight.
        She entered the garden only a minute later to find both Boone and Braedan kneeling next to Zo'or. Relief flooded her as she realized that their child was not harmed and moving to him, she took his arm and pulled him to a stand so that she could embrace him.
        He was a mass of confusion and fright. There was no doubt that he had severed the link which bound Zo'or and Nivian. He remembered doing so and he remembered that it had to be done. He just could not recall why!
        Still, she pushed him to try to explain it, knowing that such an action could not simply be condoned or ignored. It was, after all, an assault on the Synod Leader!
        Braedan shivered as the magnitude of what he had done struck home. With his arms wrapped tightly about her waist and burying his cheek against her torso, he communicated a single thought, his only explanation, to her;
        Paradox!
        Instantly it reverberated throughout the Commonality, causing a flurry of fearful reactions followed by the withdrawal of those Synod members who had been investigating their Leader's assault.  It seemed that Braedan had been instantly cleared of wrongdoing.
        Da'an transferred her attention to Boone. "How is he?"
        Her Implant looked up. "Hard to say. I'd better get him inside before he freezes to death though." Rising, he easily lifted the unconscious Taelon and carried him inside while Da'an made for the nearest datastream with Braedan and summoned Dr. Belman.

        A blinding headache woke her up. Opening her eyes, she was at first confused, then nauseated. Where was she? With a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare streaming through the skylight, she realized that she was in Da'an and Boone's chamber.
        Rolling onto her side, she waited for her stomach to settle. It was then that she felt a weight come down on the bed behind her.
        "Nivian," came Da'an's voice as the Companion's hand made contact with her fevered brow. "relax and breath deeply."
        She did and the pain in her head seemed to instantly vanish. In many ways Taelons were far superior to pain meds.
        "What happened?" she asked after a few minutes, as she struggled to raise herself on an elbow. "Where's Zo'or? Is he all right?"
        Da'an gently pushed her back over onto her back and then continued to stroke her forehead with cool, soothing hands. "He is in his chamber recuperating. Whatever the danger to you and him, it seems to be gone now."
        "Our link - why did it snap?"
        "Snap?" Nivian rolled over and saw the confusion on the Companion's face. "Your bond did not snap." She finally replied. "It was intentionally severed by Braedan."
        "But... why?"
        "He can no longer remember anything other than that it had something to do with a paradox created by Zo'or's rescue. He seems convinced that had he not acted, Zo'or would have entered the void."
        Nivian rolled off the bed and stood up. "I have to see him."
        "Very well, however you should know that he is in no condition to re-establish your bond at this time," Da'an replied, rising as well. The Companion escorted her to the door.
        "Then, it will be safe to bond again when he's stronger?" she asked hopefully.
        "Yes. Braedan seems to think that the severing of the bond ended the paradox and that a new attachment will not result in any misfortune."
        Nivian took and squeezed Da'an's hands gently by way of thanks and with a grateful nod, left the upper chamber. As she made her way slowly down the ramp towards the audience chamber, she tried to sort through the confusion in her head.
        She had been talking to Da'an about something urgent - something which upset her, when she had felt her tie to Zo'or snap. What had gotten her so upset? Why couldn't she remember?
        Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, she hit the landing and was about to exit the audience chamber when she saw Braedan standing there staring at her. He looked so sad that she couldn't help but stop to console him.
        "Braedan," she began. "it's OK. I know that you did what you had to do."
        A small smile appeared on his face but then quickly faded. Stepping forward, he held out his hand to her.
        When she took it, she felt his mind make contact with her own and was amazed once more by the power of it. So many thoughts communicated themselves to her that she nearly blanked out. It was too much to sort through!
        He broke the contact and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was just trying to make up for the pain I caused you and Zo'or. You'll understand later, though."
        Before she could respond, he was gone - running up the ramp to his parent's chamber.
        Nivian massaged her temples and took a few deep breaths. "Please tell me that it won't always be this confusing," she muttered. "Please tell me that he'll settle down soon..."
        With a sigh, she staggered along her way.

        Boone returned to the Embassy late. He had been seeing to Da'an's affairs - meeting important government officials in her stead so that she could spend some time with Braedan. He really didn't mind pinch-hitting for her on occasion, but he had to admit that being the North American Companion was not all mystery and intrigue. The hand pumping part of the job really left much to be desired. Even now, he shuddered as he thought back on the saccharin smiles and patently false overtures of friendship he had endured.
        Nope, he was an Implant - part cop, part bodyguard, part man Friday and that was the way he liked it!
        A smile crossed his face as he thought ahead to the surprise he had brought his son.
        Moving to the kitchen, he waited for Da'an to bring him down - she had, of course, felt him arrive and knew what he was planning.
        When they entered the room, he took the Burger King bag out from behind his back and held it up for the boy to see.
        "Son," he said with a grin, "It's time to learn about 'junk' food!"

        Nivian's heart flip-flopped when she entered Zo'or's chamber and saw him. He looked so pale and thin lying in the large bed that at first she feared that he was dead. Coming to a stop a few steps away she stared at him and it was only when he cracked his eyes open that she began breathing again.
        A ghost of a smile lit his face as he held a hand out to her.
       In an instant she was kneeling beside the bed, his hand in hers, her other hand gently stroking his cheek. Everywhere they touched, the familiar, electrifyingly pleasurable sensation occurred. It was much stronger - more intense than it had previously been and she realized that he desperately needed to recharge.
        "You need your energy stream," she murmured. "You're exhausted - you've been through so much..."
        He leaned towards her and tangled the fingers of his free hand into the hair at the base of her skull, gently pulling her face close.
        "I no longer require an energy stream, nor do I desire one" he whispered, as his softly glowing eyes seemed to consume her. "Five years, Nivian - five long years without you! Never before have I been so keenly aware of the passage of time. It's you that I require - you that I need."
        He kissed her then. It started gently, as though he were slowly getting reacquainted with her and then it built in intensity until she felt her legs trembling.
        "Come here," he demanded, pulling her by the arm.
        Allowing him to pull her forward, she found herself sliding into the bed beside him as she tried to catch her breath.
        Instantly his arms were around her, pulling her close as he rolled so that they were chest to chest with her looking down at him. Again a hand came up so that he could run his fingers through her hair and his eyes closed briefly, as though the sensation were almost too much for him.
        This time it was she who leaned in close and kissed him. Again it went on for what seemed like minutes. When they were both short of breath, she slid her cheek against his and nibbled at his earlobe as they tried to catch their breath.
        Zo'or let his breath out in a hiss as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and began squirming beneath her. Excited by the effect on him, she redoubled her exploration of his ear. Soon she felt his hands caress her back and then slip down to knead her bottom.
        After just a minute, he turned his head so that he could kiss her again and that seemed to ignite something within him. He began fanatically nudging her, desperately attempting to shift her so that she would be completely astride him.
        Feeling herself losing control, she complied.
        And froze.
        Pulling her head back, she stared at him in shock.
        There was no disguising the smug look on his face. "Much has changed in the five years I was away," he whispered in a voice that sounded both husky and at the same time suspiciously close to laughter.
        "So I see - ur... feel!"
        Suddenly Zo'or gripped her shoulders and rolled her onto her back. Pinning her hands to the bed above her head, he now lay astride her, pressing his pelvis against her while he took the time to nibble her ears.
        Her initial squeal of surprise quickly became a purr as he worked on her lobes.
        When he raised his head a minute later, he wore a superior look, but then sighed and became serious.
        "Nivian, when I traveled back, I lost touch with the Commonality. It was so strange - in the very back of my mind I could feel their presence, after all, they did still exist in that time. But they were so very far away that I found myself effectively cut off. Still, I had Braedan with me and Ma'el also was still alive then. The touch of their minds was enough to keep me from an atavistic state. After Ma'el joined the void, there was only Braedan and I soon came to realize that I had begun to change, to slowly regress to a more matter-based form."
        "Like Da'an?"
        "Yes." Again, he stroked her hair. "Something else was happening in my case. Braedan..." He paused for a moment as though still incredulous. "Braedan feels other humans in much the same way that I experience the Commonality."
        She suddenly made sense of the strange sensations she had picked up from the boy only a short time ago. "Are you saying that there is a sort of human commonality?" she asked.
        He nodded. "There were several Kimera sent to Ma'el by Quo'on." He placed a finger on her lips to silence the flurry of questions she was about to ask. "We shall discuss this more at another time. All you need know now is that the Kimera bred with many of the humans in the area and then moved on. Those humans Braedan is linked to all have Kimera ancestry. They have inherited our ability to join their minds, although most do not seem actively aware of this."
        "How could they not know?"
        "I told you the story of Katya. Her psychic powers were nothing more than the sharing of knowledge through the link. Unlike others with her abilities, she actually came to understand her gift for what it truly was. Many humans have what you refer to as good luck, strong intuitions, amazing social graces. They are all manifestations of a human linkage."
        Nivian thought for a while and had a sudden explanation for his condition. "You were relying on a link with Braedan and yet he was linked with the other humans."
        "Yes. And so you find me as I now am - male." Moving sinuously, he rubbed his torso against her own as he released her wrists and instead ran his hands down her neck and over her chest.
        "You seem suddenly energetic," she gasped.
        He raised his head and grinned wickedly. "You have an amazing ability to revitalize me." Leaning down, he kissed her.
        Then she lost interest in everything but him...

        Boone found himself jolted awake, and was momentarily both startled and confused. Unfortunately his memory of the dream he had been having soon returned as he came to realize that he was experiencing an intrusion. Zo'or's conciousness was flooding the Commonality link, drowning everything else out.
        Besides him, he was vaguely aware of Da'an communicating with security over his global. She was telling them to stay away from the Synod Leader's chamber, regardless of what they might hear.
        "Oh no..." he groaned as her words sank in and the sensations he was experiencing began to peak.
        In a flash which left him short of breath and sweaty, it was over.
        Boone lay on his back in bed and rubbed his face briskly with one hand.
        "William, are you...?"
        "I think I'm going to be ill..." he whispered. In the dark, he could see Da'an's eyes glowing near him and knew that she was on her side with her head raised, watching him.
        Her cool hand stroked his brow and then withdraw. "It is over now," she said as she blinked.
        He turned onto his side facing her and pulled her close. "For now..." he huffed.
        Rolling as well, she moved back against him so that he could wrap his arm about her waist and snuggle close.
        "How can you stand to eavesdrop like this?" he asked. "I mean - this is Zo'or we're listening in on. It's... it's..."
        "Fascinating?"
        "No! It's... revolting!"
        She shifted as though trying to look back over her shoulder. "Why do you find it so?" she asked, puzzled.
        "Da'an!"
        "I am confused. Why do you find such a celebration of love wonderful when it is us and nauseating when it is Zo'or and Nivian?"
        "When it's us, we do our best to keep it to ourselves. They're just..." He tried again. "They're flaunting it! And the idea of Zo'or being able to... to... to do that - it's just plain disturbing!"
        She relaxed and shrugged. "This is new to Zo'or.  I imagine it will take him time to dampen down his sharing of it through the Commonality. Perhaps once he has again bonded with Nivian things will calm down."
        Boone had a sickening thought. "Braedan!" he hissed, as he raised his head and tried to see the small bed where their child was sleeping.
        "Calm yourself," Da'an said, sounding weary. "He sleeps. It is doubtful that even that loud a broadcast has disturbed his slumber."
        He sighed and tried to relax. "The poor little guy's been through a lot."
        "Yes."
        He waited a few minutes and then risked annoying her by speaking again. "Does something seem strange to you right now?"
        She stiffened slightly. "I am not certain of what you are referring to."
        "It's the Commonality," he suddenly breathed. "I just realized that I don't hear any of the others..."
        She rolled to face him and he could tell that she had known of the change in the common link well before he had. In the darkness of the room, he could feel that she was overwhelmed, apprehensive and trying to choose her words with care.
        "The others," she began, "are... cowering."
        "Cowering?"
        "They are in a state which closely parallels what humans call shock. William, they have just discovered that their Synod Leader has regressed to a state we have sought for millennia. There are two of us now - one male, one female. It is proof of what might be - that we may all once more be fertile without regressing too far backward."
        Boone felt his skin crawl. "What are you saying, that instead of using humans as guinea pigs, that now your people are just going to go out and woo us?"
        He could feel the disappointment radiate from her at his poorly chosen words. "No William. We both know that most of my people are incapable of feeling anything so sentimental towards humans. We have found a cure for one of our maladies, however we have found it too late, for the Jaridians will surely destroy us all well before we learn to love each other."
        "Hey..." He pulled her close and held her tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired - we both are. It's been a very long, difficult day."
        They remained cuddled for a long while, neither sleeping, but rather enjoying the comfort of being together.
        Finally, he asked the question which had been bothering him. "Da'an, if we had the time and IF your people and my own were able to... bond, how would that help in the grand scheme of things? How would it help in the battle that lies ahead?"
        She shrugged slightly. "That is unclear, however we would at least have hope - we would not be doomed to extinction even should we survive the battle."
        He kissed the top of her head and continued to hold her close, but it was a long time before he slept.

        Nivian stretched and rubbed her eyes. The light from the window had fallen across her face and roused her from the best night's sleep she had had in ages. As she settled back down, prepared to relax and just let the day filter in, she felt a hand rub her belly.
        Turning her head to one side and opening her eyes, she saw Zo'or lying on his side, watching her with sleepy, hooded eyes. He looked like the cat who had stolen the cream.
        Before she could react, he scooted forward and wrapped arms around her, pulling her closer so that he could lay his head on her shoulder.
        "Well, hello there," she giggled.
        He silenced her with a quick kiss and then took her right hand in his left one, meshing their fingers together.
        Realizing what he planned to do, she protested. "No, Zo'or! You're too weak!"
        He smiled. "No longer. I feel stronger than I have in five years."
        "But..."
        Again he silenced her with a kiss. "Hush, woman," he breathed. "Or must I prove to you that I am recovered?"
        She would have laughed at his uncustomary teasing, but he had already initiated the sharing which would lead to the reestablishment of their bond.
        Nivian felt herself relaxing. In her mind they were approaching each other, getting ready to embrace all that the other was...
        She could hear the voices of the other Taelons - of the Commonality grow from a barely audible whisper to almost a roar as they made the final contact and the bond began to reform.
        Then Zo'or pulled his head back and gasped.
        In her mind, she could see a look of shock and fear upon his face. Then his eyes flared brilliantly before fading to blue.
        Only this time they were no longer a phosphorescent Taelon Blue - they were human!
        Shocked by the unexpected reaction, she was about to ask what was wrong when suddenly she felt herself froze.
        Voices were rising up within her - thousands, hundreds of thousands of voices - all of them human!
        She covered her ears and tried to tune them out, but she couldn't. They were all crying out in fear and confusion;
        "What's happening?"
        "Oh Lord, what is it?"
        "Am I crazy?"
        "Please, make it stop!!!!"
        "Nivian."
        She looked down and saw Braedan standing beside her. Although she knew he wasn't really there - that this was a place within her mind, still she knew he was no dream. He was with them and he alone seemed unfazed.
        "What has happened?" she asked the child as her mind threatened to snap. The experience was becoming horrifying.
        He took her hand, and then Zo'or's, though the Taelon seemed to be in a trance and unaware of it. "It is the beginning of a new world," he explained. "The weak link which unknowingly bound those humans of Kimera descent has been added to the Commonality through you and Zo'or. The power of the Taelon's own mental network has bled backward into the new pathways, accomplishing that which I alone could not."
        Her head buzzing so loudly that she could barely think or even hear herself, she broadcast loudly to him, "A human Commonality has been activated?"
        Braedan dropped her hand, and reaching out, placed his hand on her head before doing the same to Zo'or.
        The voices instantly dropped down to a whisper.
        "That is better," he commented. "Nivian, there is no longer a Taelon Commonality or a human Commonality. It is now but one link.
        Zo'or blinked and looked down. "What have you done?" he cried.
        "The one thing which I could do," the boy whispered back. "I joined Nivian to the rest of the human Commonality. Because of her previous long contact with the Taelon Commonality and the strength of her mind, she was able to become a part of it despite her lack of Kimera ancestry. In renewing your bond with her, you have joined both networks together. You and she are the channels which allow the two sides to understand each other and interact."
        "Interact!" Zo'or looked furious. "You have destroyed us! Every Taelon is frozen in shock!"
        "And the humans are bordering on insanity," Nivian added.
        "Not every human and Taelon is so affected," Braedan calmly replied. "Even now, Boone and Da'an struggle to make sense of the situation and their understanding is spreading through out the new link. One by one, each individual, both human and Taelon, is calming and adapting."
        Even as he finished speaking, she felt a calmness being restored. In the back of her mind both Da'an and Boone were whispering, their voices calming and soothing. Throughout the new Commonality its members were trying to relax.
        Zo'or released Nivian and fell to his knees.
        She quickly knelt down next to him and put an arm about his shoulders.
        "Why?" he continued brokenly. "Why have you done this thing?"
        Braedan looked near to tears, but seemed determined to make him understand. Placing a hand on his adoptive parent's head, he said, "I did it to save us - all of us. We are now one. The Taelons will multiply and there will be understanding between the two species at last. All the human resources and ingenuity will be placed at your command. In return, you will give over to the humans your technology. When the Jaridians arrive, they will be met by their match, and not an already vanquished foe."
        Zo'or cried out and threw off Braedan's hand...
        And Nivian found herself back in her body, in her bed and in his arms.
        She and Zo'or stared at each other for a few seconds, and then he was struggling out of the bed. Getting his feet tangled in the blankets, he fell onto the floor, then picked himself up and stumbled to the middle of the room where he collapsed to his knees.
        An unholy sound escaped him as he threw his head back and screamed, "NO!!!!"

        Zo'or's scream pulled Boone out of his inner focus, snapping him back to the here and now. He found himself standing in the middle of his room, still in his pajama bottoms. Turning, he saw that Da'an was sitting on the edge of the bed and blinking at him, a sure sign that she too was now externally aware.
        As he turned back towards Braedan's small cot, he saw that his son was also out of bed - and crying. Instantly he moved forward and gathered him up in his arms.
        The child wrapped his own arms around his neck and held on for dear life as his sobbing grew louder.
        "Shhhh, it's all right Braedan," he soothed. "You did the right thing."
        "But... Zo'or...." the boy choked out.
        "What about him?"
        "He doesn't love me now!"
        Boone met Da'an's eyes. She had risen and was standing near them, but had decided to let him handle this. He was grateful to her for that. For the first time since their child had disappeared, he felt as though he had reconnected with him.
        "Hey," he admonished. "Who says he doesn't love you anymore?"
        "He's angry, though!" Braedan cried. "I've never seen him so upset... He thinks that I have destroyed the Taelons!"
        Boone sat down on the cot and positioned Braedan on his knee where he could look him in the eye. With the back of his fingers, he wiped the tears off his son's face. "Let me tell you something about Zo'or," he whispered. "It doesn't take much to upset him. He has his own very specific plans for his race and is not really good at considering other options." He brushed Braedan's hair back off his face. "You've never seen him upset before?" he asked, incredulously.
        The boy stopped crying and sniffed. "Only once or twice and never like this."
        "Well, that's because he wasn't in any position to lead his people at the time. Believe me, in the past he's been much angrier at me and your mom, but he's gotten over it. Besides, he loves you. We can all feel that and that is not something which is going to change just because you've done something that displeases him."
        Braedan looked at him, hopefully. A small hiccup escaped him as he asked, "Really?"
        "Yes - really!" Boone hugged him tightly then as a smile split his face. Braedan might be an incredibly advanced alien in some ways, but underneath it all he was still just a small, insecure little human boy.
        When Braedan finally drew back, Boone was relieved by the small smile which had appeared on his face. "I'm glad that you're my father," he said, running his small fingers over his face. "You remind me of Buan. He was really good at making me feel better, too."
        "Who is Buan?" he asked.
        "My best friend back in Strandhill. He was our ancestor. I hope that Lazarus will be his friend now!" With that statement, the child bounded from his lap and ran across to Da'an, who received a long hug of her own.
        Boone stared at her, completely nonplused. It was shaping up to be a hell of a morning. God only knew what kind of panic was reigning out in the streets...
        He stood and headed quickly for the shower, aware that they were about to have a very hectic day.

Epilogue

     Zo'or sat on a bench in the garden and watched as the birds fought over a scrap of bread he had thrown down for them.
        It was mid summer and a beautiful morning, the sky blue and cloudless. A cool breeze was blowing despite the fact that it was already showing signs of becoming a hot, muggy day.
        So very much had happened in the months since the joining.
        All of his race had begun to regress, an event brought on by their permanent link to the humans. And it was permanent now, for he and Nivian were no longer the only connection between the two nets. There were now many more, including one formed by Kha'rha and Beckett. Those bridges would, no doubt, continue to increase in number until the two mind networks were well and truly one. And who knew? Perhaps more children like Braedan would be born - children instantly connected to both human and Taelon.
        His thoughts turned to Braedan and he instantly felt the familiar surge of pride which always overcame him on such occasions.
        The child had saved them. Although it had been a full week before he had come to accept the solution, he had to admit in the end that it was the only solution.
        Who would have imagined that the Kimera would be that prolific or that those with their blood would have a pre-disposition for civil service? Fully half of all the lawmakers, police, military and leaders in the world were joined in the great link.
        In the time since its establishment, almost all government corruption had been eliminated and distrust of the Taelons had been replaced with understanding and acceptance. Though neither species was perfect, they needed each other and were now working towards a common goal - survival!
        The sound of small feet drew his attention and turning his head he saw Braedan running down the path towards him.
        "Zo'or!" the child greeted him. In the next second, he was thrown back on the bench by the force of Braedan's flying hug.
        He squeezed the boy back and then moved him onto the bench beside him and offered him the rest of the bread he was holding. As he watched him feeding the birds, he was thankful that Braedan had gotten the chance to grow up in this world - in a place where he could have friends and be a child for a few years longer.
        This time the sound of slow footsteps drew his attention and he looked up to see Nivian moving towards them. She was wearing a sun dress and a shawl. When their eyes met, a huge smile split her face and he felt himself standing so that he could embrace her.
        She kissed him passionately, causing Braedan to pause in his feeding of the birds and giggle.
        When they broke apart, she was still grinning.
        "What is it which so amuses you?" he asked.
        She took his hand and placed it on her lower abdomen, causing him to stare at her in bewilderment.
        Then he felt it! A mind - a small, developing mind!
        "Nivian...." he breathed.
        "Just kiss me, daddy," she laughed.
 
 

Fin
 
 
 
 
 
 

Appendix:


Name Alternate Spelling Pronounced Meaning
Naoise -- NEE-sha One Choice
Gobnait -- GOB-nit Mouth
Siabh Sive Rhymes with "Dive" Goodness
Buan -- Boone Long lasting, durable

My Take on Boone's ancestry:
Originates in Strandhill with a Kimera or Kimeras contributing to the bloodline. This results in Gobnait, then Siabh, then Buan. Buan takes a wife, whose name is Mogh and one of their sons, also named Buan later travels to what will become Scotland, shifting the ancestry from Celtic to Gaelic. Somehow this Buan becomes the stuff on which legends are based. Eventually his many descendants end up with the following surnames: Buan, Bain, Behan, Bon and Bone. Eventually at least one line takes on the more modern surname of Boone. William's closest ancestors immigrated to Cape Breton, which is where is own meager research into his family's past ended.