Where Time Stands Still Page 9

  He lowered his head as if momentarily lost in thought, saying nothing for a moment. Abramowitz was certain she perceived a moment of regret cross the Valzhan’s features before he returned his attention to her and Royano. “I am pleased that our two families were able to leave our past behind, though I am saddened that I was not there to see them forge their new beginning together.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It is yet another example of how time can be an interesting companion to those who reside outside of Elysia.”

  Holding up the carrying case still in his possession, Royano said, “Saraven, as is our custom, your family’s jelorakem would normally have been interred by the Ancestral Commission once they joined with Clan Iggrazo. However, given your unique circumstances the commission has granted an exception to established tradition so that you might look upon this jelorakem one final time before its retirement.”

  Saraven smiled knowingly. “Yes, of course.” He reached for the heirloom’s carrying case, taking it gently from Royano’s hands to cradle it in his own. His fingers caressed the container’s smooth, polished surface for a moment before looking up again.

  “When I was asked to command the colony ship on its long voyage,” he said, “I knew I would in all likelihood never return home. It was a difficult time for my people, and the ship was seen as a beacon of hope, a way to cast light into the darkness in which we found ourselves. I was one of a very select few people with the skills deemed necessary to make the journey a success, and so it was with great reluctance that I accepted the assignment. In doing so, I surrendered my place as head of my family and so entrusted that responsibility to my oldest son, Maltim.” Holding up the case for emphasis, he added, “That meant giving him responsibility for this, as well.”

  Focusing his attentions on Abramowitz for the first time, Saraven said, “When the last Starfleet ship came to us and I learned that my clan had not fared well during the massive war that had plagued my planet, I was sorely tempted to leave Elysia and return home. However, I decided that I was needed here, and that my family would continue to persevere without me as they already had for so long.” He shook his head. “I have often wondered if I erred in my decision, but never so strongly as I do now.”

  Abramowitz sensed an opportunity to lend her skills to the situation. “Saraven, like many of your people whom we have encountered since your world joined our Federation, you have repeatedly demonstrated a willingness to answer the call of a higher purpose without regard for personal sacrifice. Though I have no way to be certain, it seems that your family would have respected your decision as well as understood the reasons behind it. In fact, is it reasonable that your eldest son, and all who took up the mantle of leadership in your clan after him, would have strived to continue on in your stead, if for nothing else than to honor the commitment you made to the Valzhan people.”

  Having stood in respectful silence just behind Abramowitz and Royano during the past several minutes, Devna now stepped forward and placed a hand gently on Abramowitz’s shoulder. “You have a wisdom about you that belies your age, my young friend.” After a moment, she smiled and added, “Of course, my perception of age has changed since my arrival here in Elysia.”

  “It’s more a simple desire to learn than any real wisdom,” Abramowitz replied. “My role in Starfleet is to understand the many different cultures we come into contact with and to use that knowledge to build stronger friendships with them. I’m fortunate in that my duties are in actuality just extensions of a natural curiosity I’ve had all my life.”

  Saraven nodded in approval at that. “I have no doubt that the Valzhan appreciate all that Starfleet has done on our behalf.” He held up the case and the prized family possession it contained. “It therefore seems appropriate that I ask you to remain while I carry out the final act of my clan.”

  Releasing the case’s small latch, he pulled open the container’s front cover, revealing the obelisk ensconced inside. Withdrawing the jelorakem, he set the case on the floor at his feet so that he could hold the object in both of his hands. He placed the palm of his right hand on the heirloom’s apex, and Abramowitz heard a distinctive click as the entire crystal seemed to sink slightly into its pedestal.

  Then the jelorakem’s four faces rose upward, opening like the petals of an exotic crystalline flower and revealing the interior of the obelisk as a mosaic of vibrant and multifaceted gemstones. Feeling her mouth drop open as she beheld the breathtaking sight before her, Abramowitz instinctively stepped closer to get a better look as the stones began to emit a soft light. It reflected off the interior faces of the obelisk itself, producing an almost holographic image that was projected outward between her and Saraven. The light coalesced into what she now saw was a scene depicting a small group of Valzhan gathered around a fire.

  “Who are they?” she asked, noting as she did so that both Devna and Royano appeared to be similarly enraptured by the jelorakem’s effects. “Members of your family?”

  Standing perfectly still as the obelisk continued to generate its remarkable imagery, Saraven replied, “The jelorakem carries a clan’s history within itself, storing and protecting that history so that it can be passed on from generation to generation. In the case of our family, that history dates back several thousand years. Many of the stories that comprise such a chronicle are usually private matters and not usually shared with those who are not of the clan. Because of this, it is rare for an outsider to witness an event such as this.”

  Abramowitz felt an almost electric sensation in the air that played across her exposed skin, no doubt a reaction to the enormous significance represented by the elegant object in the Valzhan’s hands. “I’m honored that you’re allowing me to see this, Saraven. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You have already done so,” the Valzhan replied. “It is through your efforts that Guardian Royano was able to bring this to me. Because of that, I am granted the privilege of carrying out one last act on behalf of my family.”

  Closing his eyes, Saraven raised the obelisk over his head. “Our clan is no more. May those who once lived under that name find peace and prosperity in union with their new family. As a final testament to the heritage we embrace as well as the legacy we leave behind, we consign the jelorakem of Clan Briphachi to the ages.”

  As she watched, Abramowitz saw the image generated by the cherished heirloom begin to shift and move, as the entire millennia-spanning record of Saraven’s family was played out before her.

  “Fate saw fit to lure me and my ship to this place where time has no meaning,” he said as the jelorakem continued to present its chronicle of the family to which it had been entrusted for uncounted generations. “It drew us from the lives we had known, only to hold us here while our families and friends continued in our absence. Now, it has conspired with the peculiar qualities of Elysia to offer me some measure of recompense.”

  “It’s magnificent,” she said, making no attempt to hide the wonder in her voice. The images passed almost too fast for her to comprehend fully, but she reminded herself that receiving a cold, straightforward history lesson was not her mission here, nor had she been tasked with devising a solution to a problem she and her shipmates faced.

  Time had brought Saraven full circle in the sequence of events he himself had put into motion centuries ago, and in the process had also provided her with the unparalleled opportunity to bear witness to this extraordinary event.

  Not a bad day’s work for your average, everyday cultural specialist, Abramovitz decided with no small amount of pride, unable to suppress a feeling of giddiness as she reflected on the circumstances that had brought her to this wondrous place. Not bad at all.

  About the Authors

  DAYTON WARD has been a fan of Star Trek since conception (his, not the show’s). After serving for eleven years in the U.S. Marine Corps, he discovered the private sector and the piles of cash to be made there as a software engineer. He got his start in professional writing by
having stories selected for each of Pocket Books’ first three Star Trek: Strange New Worlds writing contests. In addition to his various writing projects with Kevin Dilmore, Dayton is the author of the Star Trek novel In the Name of Honor and the science fiction novel The Last World War. Though he currently lives in Kansas City with his wife, Michi, Dayton is a Florida native and still maintains a torrid long-distance romance with his beloved Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Readers interested in contacting Dayton or learning more about his writing are encouraged to venture to his Internet cobweb collection at http://www.daytonward.com.

  After fifteen years as a newspaper reporter and editor, KEVIN DILMORE turned his full attention to his freelance writing career in 2003. Since 1997, he has been a contributing writer to Star Trek Communicator, writing news stories and personality profiles for the bimonthly publication of the Official Star Trek Fan Club. Look for Kevin’s interviews with some of Star Trek’s most popular authors in volumes of the Star Trek Signature Editions. On the fictional side of things, his story “The Road to Edos” was published last year in the Star Trek: New Frontier anthology No Limits. With Dayton Ward, he has also written the novels A Time to Sow and A Time to Harvest, seven other Star Trek: S.C.E. eBooks, and a story for the anthology Star Trek: Tales of the Dominion War. A graduate of the University of Kansas, Kevin lives in Prairie Village, Kansas, with his wife, Michelle, and their three daughters.

  Coming Next Month:

  Star Trek™: S.C.E. #45

  The Art of the Deal

  by Glenn Greenberg

  The S.C.E. is sent to Vemlar to aid in the construction of a new research-and-development facility, run by an interstellar business tycoon named Rod Portlyn. But there is more to Portlyn’s business dealings than meets the eye, as a group called Taru Bolivar is trying to sabotage the Vemlar project. Soon the crew of the U.S.S. da Vinci finds itself embroiled in a conflict that may lead to disaster!

  COMING IN OCTOBER 2004

  FROM POCKET BOOKS!