1996 was an exciting year for the SF SIG. Nine issues of Ibn Qirtaiba were released - more than in any other year. Exclusive interviews with Australian authors Greg Egan and Damien Broderick were published. An easily remembered domain name was obtained; sf.sig.au.mensa.org. Last but not least, we were one of a handful of SF Web sites to take part in the inaugural on-line science fiction convention SCIFI.CON, hosted by the Sci-Fi Channel. I am sure 1997 will be even bigger and better. To ensure this is so, please continue to contribute your letters, articles and fiction.
This issue, our second serial, Of Kings and Pawns by Kevin Karmann, reaches a dramatic conclusion. In a more avant-garde vein, William Sternman returns with a thought-provoking story entitled Fancy Meeting You Here (first published in PBW magazine in 1993). You'll also find ten more cool SF sites, and a letter of complaint from a seaQuest fan who disapproves my ribbing of the show in issue 9 and on the SF SIG home page! Well, to demonstrate that Ibn Qirtaiba listens to its readers, you'll now find that the derogatory reference to seaQuest on the SF SIG page has now been replaced with a derogatory reference to Xena: Warrior Princess (and who can argue with that?). Furthermore I am quite willing to print a Worlds of Fandom article on seaQuest should a fair-minded fan submit one. "From literary to media, high-brow to low-brow" has always been this magazine's credo, and it's one which I will be the last to abandon.
Short story: Fancy
Meeting You Here by William Sternman
The question was whether to have a martini while he waited for Frances or a cup of coffee. If he had a martini, Dennis knew, he would inevitably have a second to pass the time, since Frances was invariably half an hour late for any social engagement. He knew that she could be on time when she had to be, because she ran her own public-relations firm and never kept a client waiting. When he pointed this little inconsistency out to her, she merely shrugged: one thing had nothing to do with the other. If she was late for their dinners, and it was never more than five minutes, she hastened to remind him, it was only because she had become so immersed in this or that that she lost track of the time. Dennis knew better than to ask why she didn't lose track of the time when she was meeting a client. One thing had nothing to do with the other.
Once he had deliberately arrived half an hour late himself. On the way he had fantasized about coming into Taormina and finding Frances impatiently drumming her fingers as she waited for him to show up. But with the uncanny prescience of the chronically late, Frances had arrived half an hour after he had, so nothing had been accomplished. Sometimes Dennis wondered if Maureen, their waitress, didn't phone Frances the minute he walked in, to give her a thirty-minute warning. If he actually had two martinis this evening, he might just ask her.
On the other hand, Taormina was not the kind of restaurant where you dawdled over a cup of coffee. Besides, even in his new powder-blue cotton suit, Dennis was still too hot to drink any liquid warmer than liquid nitrogen. (That was the kind of joke he could never tell Frances, because, not being a scientist herself, she would not have understood its significance.)
Not that anyone would have noticed if he had drunk liquid nitrogen, since Taormina was so dimly suffused with red light that you couldn't even have read a menu - had there been a menu to read, that is. That's why Maureen always recited the bill of fare, with interpretive gestures and eye rolls, like a kindergartner making the most of her long-awaited turn at show and tell.
Taormina was so dark tonight - or was it that he had just come in from the glare of an August afternoon? - that at first he could barely see the only other two people in the room. (As a matter of fact, he had neither seen nor heard them when he had come in.) They might have been he and Frances from a previous visit. Taormina was so small that they had probably sat at every one of its round, white-clothed tables more than once.
The couple was in the far corner and the man was sitting with his back to the wall, which is exactly the position Dennis would have chosen, since it would have allowed him to survey the entire room. He also disliked the idea of anyone, even someone as jolly and chubby as Maureen, creeping up behind him, which is why he was now seated on a banquette.
From what he could see of him, the man was a good ten years older than Dennis, around forty-five. He had the kind of distinguished-looking hair that Dennis, being a sandy blonde, could never have: grey with an underlayer of black. Even his mustache had the same layered look. (When Dennis had grown a mustache at Penn, it had come in so light that it looked as if he had bleached it, so he shaved it off.) It was hard to tell how tall he was, because he was sitting down, but Dennis guessed that he was several inches taller than Dennis's own 5'8". He was wearing a grey herringbone-tweed suit. The thought of wearing such a suit himself made Dennis's skin crawl, since he couldn't abide anything rough against his body, especially on a day as hot as today was. This was why he preferred summer suits even in the dead of winter; he'd much rather be cold than crawly.
The woman had her back to Dennis. Perhaps it was just a trick of the dim red lighting, but she looked very much like Frances: slender, animated, about twenty-eight, with long, straight blonde hair. The hand momentarily resting on the arm of the mahogany captain's chair even wore the same kind of little black glove that Frances did when she was entertaining a client. Draped over the back of her chair - he could hardly believe it - was a fur coat. On a day like this.
Her face was turned away from him, but he could tell from the tone of the voice that just barely reached him that she was trying to make a very important point.
Dennis strained to hear what she was saying.
With a guilty start, he realized that Maureen was standing at his elbow, looking as incongruous in her frilly, virginal white uniform as a male construction worker in a tutu. She was the kind of person with whom you became intimate friends while she was taking your first order. In her late thirties and divorced, she was exuberantly, unabashedly promiscuous and never failed to give Dennis and Frances a play-by-play rundown of her latest amour. "This is it," she would begin each recital, "this is really it." When Dennis pointed out to her that that's what she had said the last time and the time before that, Maureen would counter, "This time I really mean it." When she was between engagements, so to speak, she lived in continuous expectation of running into Mr Right around every corner. This was why she put on a full face of makeup even to go to the laundromat. "You never can tell," she explained. Dennis would like to have quoted Miss Moffat, from The Corn Is Green, to the effect that if Mr Right hadn't shown up by now, he had probably lost his way and wasn't coming.
These amorous blow-by-blow accounts of Maureen's never-ending work in progress always concluded with Dennis playfully accusing her of being a slut or a trollop. The old-fashioned sound of these Victorian epithets delighted the waitress so much that she burst into appreciative guffaws.
"The usual, Mr D.?"
He nodded absent-mindedly, all thoughts of a chaste coffee evaporating like cheap after-shave lotion.
After Maureen had gone, he realized that she hadn't regaled him with her latest amorous escapade. Even her voice had seemed subdued, as though something were on her mind. She had also called him Mr D., instead of Dennis. Perhaps the couple had been giving her a hard time.
When his martini arrived, he took the first sip cautiously. It
always tasted like shellac or perfume, he could never
decide which, but once his tongue went numb it was
heavenly. And, as Noel Coward pointed out in "Uncle
Harry," the after-effects were divine.
He glanced at his watch. It was incredible. Whenever he was waiting for Frances at Taormina, it was always 5:20. After he finished this martini and ordered another (this was now a foregone conclusion), he would look at his watch again - and it would still be 5:20. It was just like being on the beach at Atlantic City, only cooler.
The sound of throaty laughter made him turn toward the door, expecting to see Frances greeting Maureen, but there was no one there. The woman at the corner table had a laugh uncannily like Frances's.
Dennis looked at his watch. It was 5:21.
The woman was still laughing, her head thrown back so that her arched throat caught the dim red light. Her laugh made Dennis think of a quietly purring Rolls Royce.
Her companion was obviously not appreciating her hilarity.
Dennis decided to give them names. Because the woman, svelte and soignee as a Vogue model, looked so much like his wife, he christened her Frances. The man, a bluff and blustery roast-beef-and-potatoes type, possibly a Brit, he labeled Algernon, after Jack Worthing's friend in The Importance of Being Earnest.
He checked his watch. It was 5:23.
He drained his glass and, using his elbow as a fulcrum, held it in the air for Maureen's retrieval. She replaced it with one she had been holding in readiness with the split-second timing of an acrobat flying through the air from one trapeze to the one swinging toward him.
It was still 5:23.
"I must say, I don't consider that very amusing, my dear," Algernon said loud enough for Dennis to hear. He sounded stuffy. And veddy, veddy British indeed.
"Don't you? Don't you, just?" Frances answered acidly. "Perhaps when Denny arrives, he'll be able to see the humor in it."
Dennis was startled. So this Frances had a Dennis too.
"Perhaps he's already arrived," Algernon commented, inclining his head toward Dennis himself.
Dennis suddenly felt self-conscious and exposed, his anonymity gone, like a member of a theater audience who an actor has suddenly chosen to stare at from the stage. Blushing, he looked down at his watch. It was still 5:23.
He glanced up to find that the woman had turned around in her chair and was staring at him too.
It was Frances.
"Denny, I can't believe you've been sitting there all this time by yourself. What on earth for? Do come and join us."
Now Dennis felt as though the actor who had been staring at him had spoken directly to him and invited him to come up on the stage and join the play. Without thinking, he looked around to see if Frances could be talking to someone else.
"Algie's been most dreadfully anxious to meet you."
Algie?
"Well, my dear, I shouldn't have put it quite as vividly as all that."
Algie's accent was beginning to sound a trifle thick to Dennis, and a trifle phony. He was no more British than Dennis himself was.
Dennis stood up and started toward them when he was suddenly slapped in the face by what seemed like a wall of water. Slogging his way through it (he found himself thinking incongruously that the Red Sea had failed to part) was as arduous as walking across the bottom of the ocean and it was a relief to finally reach their table and slump down in the captain's chair between them. Touching his jacket, he expected to find it dripping wet, but it was as dry and unrumpled as it had been when he stood up, although surprising rough, like a pineapple.
Neither Frances nor Algernon seemed to have noticed his difficulty.
"Why on earth didn't you join us the minute you got here? Really, Denny, by forty-five you should have gotten over this morbid shyness of yours."
Forty-five? What was she talking about? He touched his cheek as though that would somehow disprove her words. And why was she calling him Denny?
"Algie, I want you to meet my favorite banker, Dennis Dziewit." Unlike most people, Frances pronounced his Polish name properly - DeWitt - but he was used to variations that ranged from Dennis D. to Dennis Dwizeewhizeewhizee.
He was about to object that he was not a banker, nor forty-five, and not called Denny by anyone, especially his wife, as Frances herself very well knew, when she said, "Denny, this is my husband, Algernon Moncrieff."
Algernon Moncrieff was the name of Jack Worthing's friend in Wilde's play.
"Frances, what the hell is - " he started to say, but she interrupted him once more.
"Denny darling, there's no need to be so formal all of a sudden. I'm still Franny and I'm sure Algernon will want you to call him Algie."
"I'm sure," Algie agreed dryly.
Maureen was reaching across him to pick up his drink.
"Oh, Mr D., why didn't you tell me? I don't know where my mind is today. Just wait a sec and I'll bring you the most imperfect manhattan you ever had."
Now Franny was leaning in front of him to talk to Algernon, already smiling in anticipation of what she was about to tell him.
"When we were here last, old stick in the mud ordered his usual, and when Gwendolyn asked if he wanted a perfect manhattan, Denny said, no, that he wanted one as imperfect as he was."
As Algernon nodded his muted appreciation, Franny looked lovingly at Denny, like a doting mother watching her only child play a cucumber in the school pageant.
Suddenly Franny leaped to her feet.
"Algie, we must run. Denny, if only you weren't always so late, we'd've had more time to chat."
As he stood up, she presented her cheek to him, but before he could kiss it, she was pulling her fur coat over her shoulders and bundling up inside it.
"Brrrr-undi," she shivered. "I'm certainly not looking forward to going out in that blizzard again."
Algie, at the door, was heaving himself into a solid-black overcoat. He was already wearing a black astrakhan hat. As he ceremoniously opened the door for Franny, the wind blew in a gust of snow from the pitch-dark street. The cold cut through Denny like the blade of an ice skate, even though, as he now discovered, he was wearing a herringbone-tweed suit.
When he sat down at the now-empty table, he was shivering.
Gwendolyn was just bringing in his drink - "a bloody mary, with horseradish instead of Tabasco, just the way you like it, Mr Worthing."
When he went to look at his watch, he found he wasn't wearing one.
It didn't matter. He knew it was still 5:23.
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I just visited your web pages and I must say you've got quite a good collection of sci-fi material. However, I just came across this statement in your Ibn Qirtaiba (Issue 9), and would like to comment on it.
I may even cover the TV series you suggest, except for seaQuest, because it's so awful. If you disagree, then please submit your own World of Fandom article on seaQuest DSV, and I will undertake to print it.
I know you'll disagree, but seaQuest was by far one of the best sci-fi shows on TV. I admit - the second season, with Neptune, ridiculous monsters, demons etc. was way off - but that doesn't make SQ the worst show on TV.
When I say that SQ was fantastic - I'm
referring to first season SQ. They had a strong
science background and did their research
well. It was one of the few sci-fi shows that
you could watch and go "Now that's actually
possible..."
I know you can't ignore the awful second season - but all I'm asking is that you don't rule out having seaQuest on your pages - simply for the sake that it once was fantastic...
Also remember that many sci-fi shows get cancelled after the first season - but SQ actually survived for 2.5 seasons. That must count for something. alt.tv.seaquest and the seaQuest mailing list is also still going strong and we've got some great fan-fiction writers among us.
SQ FAN FOREVER
[Anonymised by request July 2000]
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| 1 | Daleks! | Play the classic Daleks game, in its newest Java incarnation! The object of this strategy game is for the Doctor to evade the Daleks and cause them to collide with each other (his sonic screwdriver dispatches them nicely also). |
| 2 | NetZine | NetZine boasts that it is a non-profit volunteer organisation, run by the fans, for the fans. As such its content puts many a commercial site to shame. NetZine contains a broad range of articles, fiction, interviews, letters and media, focussing largely on televisual SF. |
| 3 | Postviews | A must-bookmark science fiction resource from Australia. Postviews publishes reviews of genre books and films, both classic and recent. New reviews are usually added every week. |
| 4 | The Outer Limits | "Do not adjust your monitor..." One of the earliest science fiction TV series is one of the latest to acquire an official home page. Although graphically well designed, the bandwidth demanded by these pages borders on overkill (the first content is hidden behind three introductory pages). |
| 5 | Geocities' Area 51 | Geocities.com provides free Web space for non-profit users, and an entire neighbourhood of its site is devoted to SF. The quality of the pages varies, but with literally thousands to choose from it is easy to spend many enjoyable hours browsing. |
| 6 | Cosmic Visions | Cosmic Visions makes an ideal companion to the popular Science Fiction Weekly with its range of original fiction and reviews. You can even download the contents of each issue in Adobe Acrobat format to read at your leisure. |
| 7 | Cyber Chicken |  Think of Cyber Chicken as the Terminator with a
beak. Technically this strip is something to behold: its
colourful frames are actually animated. It's great for
a laugh. |
| 8 | The Journals of Chaos V | The Journals of Chaos V tell of a planetary struggle between the forces of Order and Chaos, which will appeal to fans of epic fantasy. The site is light on graphics, and the text is divided into chapter-sized portions. |
| 9 | The Klingon Language Institute | Visit this site to read, hear and speak the Klingon language, check out the latest additions to the Klingon vocabulary, and join such sad projects as Klingon Bible Translation and Klingon Shakespeare Restoration. |
| 10 | Terranova |  This site automatically generates a brand-new
planet every day. And which one of us doesn't
need that? |
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Last time, on Star Trek: The Next Generation: The Master, alias Diplomat Strame, has put Riker, Troi and Dr Crusher under his control. Picard, Data and Geordi commence a counter-attack by rescuing Worf from sickbay. The Doctor and Ace who have escaped from custody are released into Worf's care. They reach Cargo Bay 4 where the Doctor's and Master's TARDISes are stored, and the Master appears with his Tissue Compression Eliminator. He reveals his plan to provoke war between the Federation and Romulus, enabling him to seize control of one or both governments. A gun battle ensues, but the Master escapes in his TARDIS. And now, the conclusion...
(The Enterprise orbits the planet. On the bridge, Worf's console starts to beep. The tactical officer there quickly takes some readings.)
Tactical officer: "There's a temporal distortion of some kind in Cargo Bay 4, sir."
Troi: "The Doctor?"
Riker: "It could be."
Tactical officer: "The distortion has changed its location. It's now outside the ship."
Riker: "A police box?"
Tactical officer: "No. It seems to be a Larian ship. We are being hailed, sir."
Riker: "On screen."
(The Master appears on the screen, behind him typical TARDIS decor.)
Riker: "Diplomat, how did you get aboard the Larian ship?"
Master: "Very easily, in fact. You've seen what my people are capable of when the Doctor appeared. Having a Larian ship appear shouldn't seem that difficult."
Ro: "Isn't it strange that his ship can get here so easily, yet he needed us to get him here?"
Riker: (Standing up and walking between the conn and Ops consoles.) "I don't think it's our place to ask, Ensign."
Master: "Your Ensign Ro is correct. My people merely wanted me to come by a manner that would not intimidate either the Federation or the Taurusians. I, however, have work to do."
Riker: "I wish you luck in your negotiations with the Taurusians. Riker out." (He signals the tactical officer to cut communications.)
Tactical officer: "The Larian ship is again disappearing, sir. Another faint reading, however, has developed elsewhere."
Riker: "Keep monitoring it."
(The scene changes to Cargo Bay 4. Geordi and Data are studying the console which controls the transporter. Everyone else is simply waiting for them to come up with something.)
Picard: "I assure you, Doctor, all measures were taken to stop the Master."
Doctor: "All measures? You could've listened to me when I first warned you!"
Geordi: "I don't think we've lost him. Yet, at least."
Picard: "You've found something?"
Geordi: "With Data's help, I've managed to connect into tactical on the bridge. A few minutes ago, a Larian ship appeared."
Picard: "A Larian ship?"
Data: "Yes, sir. As is usual in contact with the Larians, sensors could not penetrate its hull."
Picard: "Cloaked."
Geordi: "In a way. Data and I have discovered that it doesn't appear to be related to a Romulan cloaking device."
Data: "The Doctor's police box adds to this theory. Scans have yet to yield any information as to its contents."
Doctor: "Of course! The Larian ships that you have come into contact with have not been ships at all, but TARDISes, like my own."
Picard: "This would allow false readings?"
Doctor: "Your scanners would only show its outer dimensions, not the inner ones, which would be completely different."
Picard: "Then we have been encountering Time Lords for the past 28 years, not Larians?"
Doctor: "I imagine so, although it has most likely been only one Time Lord - the Master."
Data: "Intriguing. No more than one Larian ship has been encountered at any one time."
Picard: "But how could he manage this for 28 years?"
Doctor: "He would not need to do that. He would only need to carefully plan his appearances. Using his TARDIS, he has the capacity for time travel. Therefore, he only made appearances when necessary."
Picard: "Mister LaForge, where is the Larian ship at this time?"
Geordi: "It's disappeared, sir."
Picard: "Then we've lost him."
Geordi: "Not yet. A second reading turned up after he disappeared. It seems to be similar yet different in a way."
Data: "There is no physical sign of the ship's presence. Only a similar reading to what the Larian ship made when it appeared, as if it is now cloaked."
Picard: "The Romulans!"
Data: "That is entirely possible, sir."
Picard: "Can we transport into the Romulan ship or the Larian ship?"
Geordi: "Without knowing the correct dimensions of either, we could easily transport into the hall of the ship."
Doctor: "Then we'll just have to use my TARDIS, won't we? Come along, Ace."
Picard: "Mister Data, Mister Worf, come with me. Mister LaForge, you will stay here and beam us back upon our command."
Data: "Due to Commander Riker's current state, I must warn you that you will be headed into a dangerous situation."
Worf: "A situation not for a commanding officer."
Data: "That is correct. You are too important, Captain."
Picard: "This may require diplomatic experience. I may be needed." (He follows the Doctor into the TARDIS. Worf shrugs and he and Data follow.)
Data: "Fascinating. The inside seems to be larger than the outside."
Doctor: "It doesn't only seem that way. It actually is that way. The TARDIS is dimensionally transcendental."
(Ace is still looking around outside the TARDIS. Upon seeing her backpack, her eyes brighten. She runs to retrieve it.)
Ace: "'ere it is." (She picks up the backpack.)
Doctor <from the TARDIS>: "Ace, come along!"
Ace: "Coming, Professor." (She runs into the TARDIS, closing the doors behind her. The TARDIS starts to make the usual sounds and soon disappears.)
(The scene changes again to the main bridge.)
Tactical officer: "Another time distortion, sir. It's the Doctor's police box."
Riker: "He's escaping. Lock on phasers. Fire!"
(Beams of light come from the phaser banks, hitting the TARDIS. The only effect, however, is that the TARDIS is turned on end and starts floating on it's side. The scene changes to the inside of the TARDIS. The Doctor, Picard, and Data manage to hold on to the TARDIS' controls. Worf and Ace, however, are thrown around the room as spins around them. The Doctor throws a switch and floor is once again in the correct place.)
Doctor: "I knew I should have fixed that chameleon circuit. It won't matter in a minute, though. I've recalibrated so that we can get inside where the Romulan ship should be."
(The TARDIS again makes the take off sounds and then it can be heard "landing.")
Doctor: "Let's see what we have here." (He presses a control and the TARDIS' viewscreen comes to life. They can see the inside of a Romulan ship. There is no one in the immediate vicinity of where they landed.)
Picard: "It looks clear enough."
Doctor: "Yes. Let's take a shot at finding the Master." (He pulls down the door opening lever and the door opens. Everyone exits the TARDIS. Worf and Data hold their phasers at the ready. They cautiously walk a ways. Suddenly they hear voices.)
Master <voice only>: "I tell you, it can still work."
Other person: "Strame, the Federation has uncovered our presence, as well as your hand in an attempt to turn the Taurusians against them. They will not let you make your move."
Master: "Ah, but I still have some confederates on the Enterprise."
Other person: "Who?"
Master: "Only the current commander of the vessel. He will attack you as soon as you show yourselves. With your shields, you should be able to resist the attack easily. An unprovoked attack on the Federation's part will turn the Taurusians in your favor."
(Picard signals Data and Worf to go forward around the corner. Worf and Data do so.)
Worf: "Do not move."
(Three Romulans as well as the Master stand there. Two of the Romulans, apparently guards, stand at each side of the third. The third Romulan sits in a chair and is very decorated. The two guards pull and aim their disrupters, but Worf and Data fire before the guards have a chance to do anything. The guards slump forward.)
Worf: "I said not to move. You would be strongly advised not to try to do so."
Romulan: "So I see."
Picard: (He comes around the corner, with everyone but Ace, who has wandered off, behind him) "I assure you that your plan is known to us."
Romulan: "Obviously. How did you get aboard this ship?"
Picard: "That should not be your concern at the moment. In fact, right now you should withdraw from Taurusian space."
Master: "Don't listen to him. He is obviously acting alone. I left his ship in the command of his first officer, after having him relieved of command."
Doctor: (He gets closer to the Master and looks at him accusingly.) "Oh? Have you also told the Romulan about your plan to instigate war between the Federation and the Romulans? About how you plan to take over during the resulting chaos?"
Romulan: "Is this true?"
Master: "Of course not!"
Picard: "If there was no deception on your part, then why do you need to hide aboard this ship? Why were you preparing to leave the Enterprise prior to being discovered?"
Romulan: "Were you trying to come here before then?"
Master: "I was, but I needed to make plans with you. We needed to finalize our operation."
Picard: "You have already lied to him. I doubt even a Romulan would even trust a liar."
Romulan: "There is merit in what you say."
Master: "No!" (He runs out of the room, pushing the Doctor aside as he does so. The Doctor pursues him.)
Picard: "Mister Data, Mister Worf, guard the Romulan." (He rushes after the Doctor and Master.)
Worf: "But Captain..." (Picard, however, is gone.)
(Meanwhile Ace is looking around. She is wearing her backpack. Suddenly a Romulan appears behind her.)
Romulan: "Stop!"
Ace: "Here!" (She throws a some nitro-9 toward him and it explodes. Suddenly the entire ship starts to shake. The Master, Doctor, and Picard are shaken up, as well as Data and Worf in another part of the ship.)
Data: (He's looking at his tricorder.) "A chain reaction explosion has started. The ship is decloaking and has no shield power. Within minutes, this reaction will cause a matter/anti-matter explosion."
(From space, the ship can be seen decloaking. The scene changes to the Enterpise's bridge.)
Tactical officer: "Romulan Warbird decloaking, sir. It has no power to its shields and weapons are not active."
(The turbolift can be heard opening and closing. However, no one seems to notice, due to their concern with the situation at hand.)
Riker: "Lock on phasers and prepare to fire."
Tactical officer: "But sir, their ship looks like it's in danger!"
Riker: "You have your orders."
(Suddenly, a voice comes from the direction of the turbolift. Although not loud, the voice is firm with conviction.)
Voice: "No."
Riker: "Who?" (He turns to look for the first time at that area of the bridge for the first time since the person arrived. He sees Guinan standing in front of the turbolift.) "Guinan! Get off the bridge immediately. This is a combat situation, not the place for a bartender."
Guinan: "I don't think so. You're being controlled."
Riker: "Me? That's ridiculous!" (Inclining his head toward the tactical/security officer, Riker continues.) "Mr. Courtney, remove Guinan from the bridge."
Courtney: (He walks up to Guinan.) "I am sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to come with me."
Guinan: (She shakes Courtney off.) "You're being controlled, by Diplomat Strame. I'm sure you're still in there. And, who knows? You might just be able to overcome it."
Riker: "If I'm being controlled, how would you know?"
Guinan: "Simple. I talked to Strame."
Riker: "And he told you that he's controlling me?"
Guinan: "In those words, no."
Riker: "Then how?" (He rubs his forehead, as if strained.)
Guinan: "Let's just say that I'm a fair judge of personalities. Would Commander William Riker, for example, attack a defenseless ship? Think about it, Commander." (She turns and leaves the bridge on her own. Riker soothes his head with his hands, as if he has a headache.)
Courtney: "Are you all right, sir?"
Crusher: (She removes a hypo-spray from her pocket.) "This should relieve any pain Commander Riker is feeling."
Riker: "No!" (He knocks the hypo out of Crusher's hand.) "I won't let the Master control me any more!"
Troi: (She whips out a phaser and points it at Riker.) "Too bad."
(The scene changes to the Romulan ship. The Master, as well as the Doctor and Picard, who are in pursuit, are tossed around as the ship lurches. The Master starts climbing up a ladder to the next deck. The Doctor starts to follow, but is thrown off the ladder by another explosion, which causes the ship to shake. Picard helps him up.)
Picard: "Let him go. It appears that this vessel is danger. We must leave."
Doctor: "But we can't let the Master..." (He stops in mid-sentence, as if he something has occurred to him for the first time.) "Ace!"
(Suddenly, Ace comes racing down the hall.)
Ace: "Right here, Professor."
Doctor: "What is going on here?"
Ace: "Oh, nothing unusual, really. Just some explosions."
Doctor: "Explosions? You haven't been using Nitro-9 on this ship, have you?"
Ace: "You see, Professor, it's like this..."
Doctor: "Never mind, now. We have to get out of here!"
(The scene changes to Data, Worf, and the Romulan Commander.)
Data: (He turns a switch on the strange device on his belt and a red light lights up.) "This device will boost my communicator's power, allowing me to communicate with Geordi aboard the Enterprise."
Worf: "I suggest you act quickly."
Data: "Of course." (He taps his communicator pin.) "Data to Geordi."
Geordi <Voice is a bit garbled>: "I'm reading you, Data."
Data: "The Romulan ship appears to be in danger. We require emergency beam out immediately."
Geordi <Voice still garbled>: "I'm trying to get a lock on each of you now."
(The scene changes to the bridge. Troi is about to pull the trigger of the phaser, but Courtney pulls his, as well, ready to fire. Troi quickly changes her aim and fires, hitting Courtney. Courtney falls back and slumps over, unconscious. Riker, however, swiftly knocks the phaser out of her hand. Ro grabs the phaser, pointing it at Troi.)
Ro: "Move beside Doctor Crusher, now!" (Troi complies.)
Riker: "Thanks, Ensign."
Ops officer: "Sir! Transporter activity in Cargo Bay 4."
Riker: "Who's using the transporter there, Mister Levene?"
Levene: "Unknown."
Riker: "Lock out the transporter there." (Levene quickly moves his hands across the Ops console. Riker taps his communicator.) "Riker to Cargo Bay 4. Identify yourself."
(The scene changes to Cargo Bay 4. Geordi stands in front of a cargo transporter console. He seems surprised, at first, at the transporter lock out, as well as Riker's call. He reaches up instinctively to activate his communicator, but realizing that it isn't a regular communicator, he press a portion of the console.)
Geordi <A bit unsure>: "Sir?"
Riker: "Mister LaForge? What's going on down there?"
Geordi: "I don't have time to explain. I need the transporter right now or Data, Worf, and the Captain are in extreme danger!"
Riker: (There is a brief pause.) "Very well. But I expect a full report as soon as possible. Riker out." (Geordi starts working frantically at the transporter console again.)
(The scene changes to Data, Worf, and the Romulan Commander.)
Worf: (He has his phaser pointed at the Romulan.) "You will come with us."
Data: (He examines his tricorder readings, as the ship shakes again.) "The explosions will reach the matter/anti-matter core in exactly 9 seconds. 8 seconds. 7 seconds. 6 seconds. 5 seconds. 4 seconds."
Worf: "We shall die as warriors."
Data: "2 seconds..."
(The transporter beam suddenly encompasses them and they disappear. From space, the Romulan ship can be seen exploding in a tremendous explosion. The scene changes to Geordi.)
Geordi: "Come on. Come on." (Three transporter beams form into Data, Worf, and the Romulan Commander. The transporter console chimes and Geordi quickly taps that portion of the panel.)
Riker <Voice>: "Mister LaForge?"
Geordi: "Commander, I'm not sure how to say this, but..."
(Data and Worf, as well as the Romulan Commander, prodded by Worf, come down. Worf leans over the console, seeing Geordi's discomfort.)
Worf: "The Captain is dead."
(The scene changes to the bridge.)
Riker: "What? Worf, are you..." (He is interrupted by the sound of the TARDIS. It suddenly appears on the bridge, in a slightly different location than it did previously. The door opens and the Doctor, Ace, and Picard exit the TARDIS onto the bridge.) "Captain! Lieutenant, the Captain has just come aboard, quite alive."
(Picard walks up to Riker.)
Picard: "Data and Worf?"
Riker: "They're apparently fine, sir. What happened to you?"
Picard: "It's a long story, Number One. For now, I have to thank the Doctor. Without him, I wouldn't be alive." (However, the sound of the TARDIS can be heard as it leaves.) "It appears as though the Doctor has other concerns he needs to attend to."
(A scene of the Enterprise orbiting Taurus XIII, presumably later.)
Picard <Voice only>: "Captain's Log, Stardate 45609.7: Our recent encounter with the Doctor and his nemesis, the Master, seems to have had no ill effects on my crew. Both Counsellor Troi and Doctor Crusher eventually recovered from the Master's control. The Taurusians, upon learning the Romulans' plan and hearing a confession from the Romulan Commander have been convinced of the peaceful motives of the Federation."
(The scene changes to Picard's ready room. The door chime buzzes.)
Picard: "Come."
(Riker walks in as the door opens.)
Riker: "The Enterprise is ready to depart, sir."
(Picard stands, straightening his uniform in the process.)
Picard: "Very well, Number One."
Riker: "Sir, I was wondering..."
Picard: "About what?"
Riker: "What became of the Master?"
Picard: "There wasn't time to investigate that matter."
Riker: "Do you think he left the universe, as the Doctor would say?"
Picard: "It's a big universe, Number One, but if he ever does return, we'll be able to handle him. And if we need a little help, the Doctor might even be able to lend us a hand."
(They leave the ready room. The scene pulls out of the ready room, via the window. The Enterprise is shown leaving orbit and heading out into space.)
[The End.]