His heart only now beginning to slow, he re-transmitted the signal that would-should!- freeze every single device, making it impossible for them to detonate or decloak or even move.

But it had no more effect than the first such signal. The remaining thousands of lights continued to vanish in ever greater numbers until, after less than sixty seconds, every single one was gone, leaving only the muted specks that were the Borg vessels.

Though he knew it wouldn't help, Sarek called up another set of readings and yet another.

The same detonation signal appeared in every one, just milliseconds before the readings ended.

But no decloaking signals.

The photon torpedoes had been detonated, every one, but not in this dimension, where the explosions would have at least damaged the Borg cubes they were cl.u.s.tered around. Instead, their deadly power had been released in that other dimension, where it had no effect whatsoever on the Borg or on anything at all in this dimension-except for extinguishing the specks of light on his viewscreen.

They knew, Sarek thought bleakly. All this time, they knew.

They must have known for years, perhaps from the very beginning of the program. Even the Borg couldn't have found a way to defeat the fleet's entire security system in the few minutes that had pa.s.sed since he had revealed its existence by destroying the one Borg ship.

It had been the spies, of course. There were Narisians on every Alliance world and on virtually every Alliance ship. They must have long ago informed the Borg of the interphase-cloaked torpedoes. And the Borg had devised a way to destroy them despite the security measures. They had been watching and waiting ever since, letting the Alliance waste its resources on a weapon they knew they could destroy in seconds.

If only he had destroyed both nearby Borg vessels, the Enterprise could at least have reached the Vortex, and there would have been a chance to restore the timeline Picard and Kirk and Scott and the rest had come from.

But now, with that remaining Borg vessel more than capable of destroying any Alliance ship-any fleet of Alliance ships!- there was no way Kirk could be returned to the Vortex.

But the being they called Guardian...

Sarek was reaching for the control panel to enter the command that would re-open the channel to the Enterprise when yet another alarm went off.

Contact had still not been reestablished with the Wisdom when a rapidly flashing readout clamored for Data's attention. Kirk abruptly cut off his restless pacing and peered over the android's shoulder.

"Captain," Data said as he scanned the information, "chronometric radiation is once again decreasing. The timeline would appear to be achieving even more stability."

What now? Kirk wondered as Picard turned toward Guinan.

"Could the destruction of the Borg cube be causing this?" Picard asked.

"I do not know, Captain."

"Your feelings- "

She shook her head, momentarily lowering her eyes. "They are telling me nothing."

"Captain," Data broke in, "this may be the cause. The sensor shield around the Terran system has just fallen."

Kirk's stomach suddenly knotted and he involuntarily averted his eyes as the image on the viewscreen shifted, centering on distant Earth. For a moment all he could see in his mind's eye were the zombie-like faces of his friends and family, even of himself, now nothing more than creatures that had once been human but now retained only enough of their humanity to be sickened by what had happened to them.

And all apparently because of him.

With an effort that he hoped was invisible to Picard and the others, particularly Scotty, Kirk regained control of himself and raised his eyes to the viewscreen, where Data was rapidly increasing the magnification, zooming in on a single point of light at the center of the screen.

"That is Terra's sun," he said, pointing out the obvious.

But then, as the magnification continued to increase, countless tiny dots began to appear all around the brightening star, all moving relentlessly outward.

For a timeless moment, Picard felt as if he were paralyzed, suffocating in a poisonously unbreathable atmosphere, unable to either resist or die.

As if he had once again been absorbed by the Borg, whose ships now swarmed across the Enterprise viewscreen by the hundreds, perhaps thousands.

For that was what each dot represented: a Borg ship.

He knew without having to ask. In the aftermath of the pain inflicted on him by the one Borg ship's destruction, he had once again heard the Borg whispering in his mind. The link forged by that destruction had persisted, outlasting the destruction itself for a brief moment. There had been no specific words like those that had filtered into his half-waking mind earlier, nor even the wordless intuitions he had reluctantly become accustomed to. Instead, it had been a myriad of distant voices, like the murmur of a vast and invisible crowd, rising and falling, imparting nothing but an overwhelming feeling of restlessness, of apprehension.

Orders, his Locutus memories told him, an ocean of orders sweeping out in ma.s.sive waves, setting in zombie-like motion millions of drones and the ships they controlled and maintained.

"How many?" he asked when he was once again able to speak.

"Two-thousand-three-hundred-eleven, Captain," Data said.

"Borg?" Kirk asked, somehow keeping his voice steady.

"Almost certainly," Data agreed, glancing briefly at Picard, "but we are too distant for a reliable visual identification. The sensor readings, however, are consistent with Borg cubes."

"And what of Earth?" Picard asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Its atmosphere matches that of other Borg worlds," Data said matter-of-factly as the now-unblocked sensors began to take the measure of the distant star and its attendant worlds. "Its overall ma.s.s is approximately five percent less than in our universe. The other terrestrial planets have also lost- "

"We get the picture, Data," Riker snapped. "They've been strip-mining the solar system to build their d.a.m.n cubes. And using what's left of Earth as a breeding colony to fill them."

"From what you people told me about this bunch," Kirk said, "I can't believe you were expecting anything less." He pulled in a ragged breath. "But what's important now is, where the h.e.l.l are they going?"

"They are moving in several directions," Data said as his eyes darted across the readouts. "However, ninety-three of them are heading directly for the Enterprise."

"Picard!"

Sarek's image reappeared abruptly on the viewscreen.

"Sarek, what- " Picard began, but the Vulcan cut him off unceremoniously.

"Proceed to the Guardian's world immediately, Picard. It is your only chance."

"But if you can destroy the Borg ships- "

"I cannot. I did destroy the one, and I believed I could destroy others, but I cannot. The weapons capable of doing so no longer exist. The Borg destroyed them all just moments ago."

"How- " Picard began, but again Sarek cut him off instantly.

"You are wasting time, Picard."

"Arbiter Sarek is correct," Data said, not looking up from the data that streamed across his station's displays. "Even if we proceed at maximum warp, we may not be able to reach the Guardian's world, a.s.suming it exists, before the Borg overtake us."

"Go!" Kirk broke in. "I'm no fan of the Guardian, but like the man says, if you can't throw me into the Vortex, it's your only chance!"

Picard suppressed a scowl, but he knew they were right, Sarek and Kirk both.

"Very well. Ensign Raeger, maximum warp on a course to-to where we hope the Guardian's world is."

As the ensign briefly acknowledged the order and the coordinates that followed, Picard returned his attention to Sarek. "I a.s.sume," he said after a moment's silence, "that you fully understand what will happen if we succeed."

"Of course, Picard. If you succeed, this timeline will cease to exist."

Picard nodded in grim apology. "And you also understand that there is no guarantee that it will either be replaced by or transformed into one that is more palatable."

"I am logical, Picard, not naive. And logic indicates that the chance is worth the taking. If you do not take it-or if you fail-you and I and the entire Alliance and dozens of other worlds will either be destroyed or a.s.similated, apparently within days at most, if the fleet now emerging from the Terran system is any indication. You and I have both seen enough of the Borg to know that that is not acceptable. Now go while you have the chance. I will do what I can to delay pursuit."

Sarek raised his right hand in the familiar Vulcan gesture. Like Vulcan logic and honor, it was, not surprisingly, common to both universes. "Live long and prosper," he said in an oddly soft voice in the moment before his image vanished from the viewscreen.

Twenty-Four.

SAREK CUT the link to the Enterprise and contacted Alliance Prime immediately, no longer making use of the ultra-secure channels he had used with Deputy Arbiter Koval. At the same time, he patched the image on his own viewscreen through not only to Alliance Prime but to the bridge of the Wisdom and to all other Alliance ships. During the seemingly interminable moments it took for the links to snake their way through subs.p.a.ce, Sarek hurried to the bridge where an uneasy Commander Varkan awaited him.

When all reachable ships were linked, Sarek implacably overrode all questions and gave every commander the projected path and velocity of the cl.u.s.ter of ninety-three Borg ships that were setting off after the Enterprise.

For an instant, just an instant, despite what he had told Picard only minutes before, despite all logic, Sarek could not help but think of telling them to gather all ships around Alliance Prime or even Vulcan and fight to the finish.

But any such action was obviously pointless. No more than fifty ships could be mustered for each world, and fifty thousand ships would not be enough.

So he gave them their orders.

Their logical but suicidal orders.

To the commanders' credit, virtually all obeyed without question, the Vulcans, Trill, Tellarites, and Klingons immediately, the Romulans after a brief hesitation. The only defectors were a half dozen Carda.s.sians, who began an immediate race to return to Carda.s.sia.

In the silence that followed, Sarek once again checked the progress of the Enterprise and of the leading Borg cubes. It was as he had feared: Unless the Borg were delayed several minutes, they would overtake the Enterprise before it could get within transporter range of the hypothetical Guardian's world. The Enterprise had managed to nudge its warp factor up by a minuscule fraction, but it would not be enough.

Everything depended on the hundred or so Alliance vessels that could, at one point or another, fling themselves in the path of the Borg fleet.

With the ships underway, including the Wisdom, it was time to explain.

But first he spoke the words that would transport ex-councilman Zarcot from Interrogation directly to the bridge. Even an illogical, short-sighted fool such as he deserved to know why he was about to die-and a few moments to prepare for that death. Or to have the time to wonder, as Sarek himself wondered: Even if a new timeline was created to replace the disastrous one they believed they had inhabited all their lives, would they or anyone else ever know?

Even in dreams?

Kirk, like everyone else on the bridge, winced inwardly as the last of the distant Alliance ships-a scattered school of minnows throwing themselves in front of an oncoming swarm of sharks-flared and vanished from the Enterprise viewscreen. The Borg, except for a single temporarily disabled cube, were back to full speed by the time they swept through the last of the clouds of molecular debris that were all that remained of Sarek's fleet.

"Sarek's delaying action gained us approximately two minutes, Captain," Data said. "However, unless our speed can be even further increased, the Borg will still be within weapons range before we can reach the Guardian's world."

Picard grimaced but did not contact engineering. Any such action, Kirk knew, would only be a distraction to Commander La Forge, who was already doing everything humanly possible to squeeze the last ounce of speed out of the warp drive. The chief engineer had already disabled a half dozen automated safeguards, trusting to his instincts to know when to throttle back temporarily, when to give one particular weak link a brief rest before pushing it once again past its design limits. He suspected that Scotty himself couldn't have done better on the old Enterprise.

"At least Sarek and his people won't be turned into Borg zombies," Kirk muttered. His own so-called sacrifice-a single life that, by all rights, should already have ended-seemed pitifully small by comparison. Even if the Enterprise was able by some miracle to reach the Guardian, even if the Guardian did require something more of him than his death-An almost inaudible moan cut into his dismal chain of thought. Looking to one side, he saw Scotty, his lips pressed tightly together, his eyes barely slits.

"We're not lost yet, Scotty," he said automatically but so softly no one else could possibly hear, though he couldn't help but notice that the one called Guinan glanced momentarily away from the viewscreen as he spoke. "We've gotten out of worse."

But as he reached a hand out toward the engineer's arm, Scotty turned abruptly and, with lowered eyes, hurried to the turbolift.

Stifling an impulse to follow and give the engineer a probably useless pep talk, Kirk turned back to the viewscreen.

And forced himself to face the truth.

They couldn't reach the Vortex.

They couldn't reach the Guardian, even if it did exist.

But one obvious possibility remained, a possibility that had been in the back of his mind from the start, as it doubtless had been in Picard's and everyone else's.

His own death, not in the Vortex but here and now.

It might do the trick.

Or it might not.

But it was better than no chance at all.

He leaned down and spoke softly in Picard's ear.

"No! Kirk must not die here!"

The words erupted from Guinan's lips like a cork from a bottle, driven by the sudden pressure of a "feeling" so intense it literally sent chills through her entire body.

And brought her own burden of guilt crashing down on her shoulders, making her physically sway under the weight. Picard, standing next to Kirk just inside his ready room, reached out worriedly to steady her.

"Guinan?"

She shook her head helplessly. Barring a miracle beyond even anything she could imagine, they were all doomed to spend the remaining few hours of their lives in this misbegotten universe that should never have come into existence in the first place.

And wouldn't have, except for her interference.

Suddenly, a sharp pain knifed through her temples, sending her lurching sideways, her knees almost buckling. Automatically grasping Picard's still-outstretched arm to keep from falling, she felt the pain spread out through her head like a clinging spray of acid. In the same moment Picard's ready room seemed to fade and ripple as if seen through a distorting lens, and a shadowy alien landscape wavered into existence in the near distance, completely surrounding her, extending to a distant, indistinct horizon.

"Jean-Luc," she heard herself say as she collapsed into darkness, not sure if she was whispering or shouting, pleading or apologizing for the disaster that was enveloping them.

"Guinan!"

Brushing Kirk aside, Picard dropped to his knees at her side on the ready room floor. She was still breathing, but her pulse was elusive. Her eyes, squinting in pain when she had fallen, were now wide open.

And utterly blank.