that studies the time portal.”
Shyly, the young man nodded a greeting. Vargas’ gaze traveled over his clothing, obviously fascinated. “I’d like to talk to you before you leave, if you have the time. I’ve never seen leather clothing before that wasn’t rotted with age in some ancient tomb. It’s a wonderful opportunity for me to speak with someone who lived the way our ancestors did. Did you use gut for sewing? How did you tan the skins?”
Zar relaxed visibly at Vargas’ matter-of-fact acceptance. “I used gut for sewing—my mother had some metal needles, but I made my own out of bone after they broke. I brought some things with me—would you like to see?”
The three officers watched for a moment as the young man and the archeologist examined the implements from the past, then Spock excused himself and left the group, heading for the camp building. He’d gone only a few steps when Zar caught him with a few swift strides and blocked his way. “I must speak with you for a moment ... sir.”
“Yes?” The Vulcan raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“I’ve been thinking about the powers of the Guardian.” The gray eyes were level. “Now that I’m here, in the present, wouldn’t it be possible for me to go back in time, also? Perhaps I could ... be there to warn her, catch her before she fell. Save her before she died. If you could tell me how ...”
Spock was shaking his head. “It isn’t possible. What is now, must be. If you were to save her back then, you could not be here now, knowing she is dead. Language is inadequate to express the concepts involved. I can show you the equation later.” Something touched his eyes for a moment. “I am truly sorry.”
Disappointment flickered across the younger man’s features for a second, then Zar nodded. The First [64] Officer looked over at Doctor Vargas, who was still examining the contents of the hide bundle. “Doctor Vargas—”
Vargas looked up. “Yes?”
“I must send a message by subspace radio. Is it possible to use the one at your camp?”
The plump little woman scrambled to her feet, brushing ashy dust off the knees of her brown coverall. “Certainly, Mr. Spock. I’ll show you where it is. As a matter of fact, perhaps you can help me with it. Our technician was injured last month in a fall while he was exploring the ruins, and had to be relocated to the nearest Star Base for treatment. We haven’t received a replacement yet, and some of the circuits on the communications equipment don’t seem to be working properly. Unfortunately, none of us is skilled enough to attempt repairs.”
“Communications equipment is not my specialty, but I will do what I can.” The Vulcan turned back to Zar. “Go with the Captain and Doctor McCoy. They will show you a place to wash and provide you with more suitable clothing.”
The younger man watched the First Officer leave, his expression wistful, before turning back to the others.
When they reached the camp building, Kirk departed in search of a spare coverall, and McCoy took his charge into the interior of the structure, noting the younger man’s wondering glance at the furnishings. He handled himself with aplomb, however, until they reached the recreation/spare room. As they entered, lights automatically came on. Zar jumped, landed crouching, knife in hand, eyes darting from side to side.
McCoy put out a reassuring hand. “Take it easy, son. The lights register body heat and turn on when we cross the doorway.”
The gray eyes were still wide. “Automatically?”
“Yeah, come outside for a second.”
They stepped back and the lights extinguished. [65] McCoy’s charge stepped in, cautiously, and gave a wordless exclamation when the lights flared back up. He spent the next minute determining just how much of his body was necessary to cause the phenomenon. (A leg was enough, but a foot wasn’t apparently.)
The Doctor watched tolerantly, amused, and when the younger man had completed his
Shyly, the young man nodded a greeting. Vargas’ gaze traveled over his clothing, obviously fascinated. “I’d like to talk to you before you leave, if you have the time. I’ve never seen leather clothing before that wasn’t rotted with age in some ancient tomb. It’s a wonderful opportunity for me to speak with someone who lived the way our ancestors did. Did you use gut for sewing? How did you tan the skins?”
Zar relaxed visibly at Vargas’ matter-of-fact acceptance. “I used gut for sewing—my mother had some metal needles, but I made my own out of bone after they broke. I brought some things with me—would you like to see?”
The three officers watched for a moment as the young man and the archeologist examined the implements from the past, then Spock excused himself and left the group, heading for the camp building. He’d gone only a few steps when Zar caught him with a few swift strides and blocked his way. “I must speak with you for a moment ... sir.”
“Yes?” The Vulcan raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“I’ve been thinking about the powers of the Guardian.” The gray eyes were level. “Now that I’m here, in the present, wouldn’t it be possible for me to go back in time, also? Perhaps I could ... be there to warn her, catch her before she fell. Save her before she died. If you could tell me how ...”
Spock was shaking his head. “It isn’t possible. What is now, must be. If you were to save her back then, you could not be here now, knowing she is dead. Language is inadequate to express the concepts involved. I can show you the equation later.” Something touched his eyes for a moment. “I am truly sorry.”
Disappointment flickered across the younger man’s features for a second, then Zar nodded. The First [64] Officer looked over at Doctor Vargas, who was still examining the contents of the hide bundle. “Doctor Vargas—”
Vargas looked up. “Yes?”
“I must send a message by subspace radio. Is it possible to use the one at your camp?”
The plump little woman scrambled to her feet, brushing ashy dust off the knees of her brown coverall. “Certainly, Mr. Spock. I’ll show you where it is. As a matter of fact, perhaps you can help me with it. Our technician was injured last month in a fall while he was exploring the ruins, and had to be relocated to the nearest Star Base for treatment. We haven’t received a replacement yet, and some of the circuits on the communications equipment don’t seem to be working properly. Unfortunately, none of us is skilled enough to attempt repairs.”
“Communications equipment is not my specialty, but I will do what I can.” The Vulcan turned back to Zar. “Go with the Captain and Doctor McCoy. They will show you a place to wash and provide you with more suitable clothing.”
The younger man watched the First Officer leave, his expression wistful, before turning back to the others.
When they reached the camp building, Kirk departed in search of a spare coverall, and McCoy took his charge into the interior of the structure, noting the younger man’s wondering glance at the furnishings. He handled himself with aplomb, however, until they reached the recreation/spare room. As they entered, lights automatically came on. Zar jumped, landed crouching, knife in hand, eyes darting from side to side.
McCoy put out a reassuring hand. “Take it easy, son. The lights register body heat and turn on when we cross the doorway.”
The gray eyes were still wide. “Automatically?”
“Yeah, come outside for a second.”
They stepped back and the lights extinguished. [65] McCoy’s charge stepped in, cautiously, and gave a wordless exclamation when the lights flared back up. He spent the next minute determining just how much of his body was necessary to cause the phenomenon. (A leg was enough, but a foot wasn’t apparently.)
The Doctor watched tolerantly, amused, and when the younger man had completed his
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