From: sll28@cc.usu.edu (Lorna Payne)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: _Boldly_In_Shadow_(story)
Date: 13 Nov 92 16:04:25 MDT
Organization: Utah State University

Well, several people have been complaining about the lack of stories on a.s.c,
so even though it's been better in the past two months than it's been for a 
long time, I guess it's time to repost this--it's also available in the
ftp archive at ftp.coe.montana (I think that's the address).

                        _BOLDLY_IN_SHADOW_

Introduction:

(With apologies to Gene Roddenberry, Roger Zelazny, Piers Anthony, J.R.R.
Tolkien, and David Lynch)

I began this story over the summer of '90, between BOBW1 and BOBW2.  I was
working for the US government at the time and for reasons which are completely
irrelevant to the story, but were not my fault, had a lot of time on my hands.
Naturally, like all DSPSG's, I was distraught at the fate of my Beloved
Captain, and wanted to do something about it.  Also, a few months previously, a
friend (who appears briefly in the story as Clarissa) had persuaded me to read
Zelazny's Chronicles of Amber series.  Suddenly it struck me:  If someone from
the House of Amber were on the Enterprise, what would s/he do?  The first two
pages followed instantly.  Then I put it away and forgot about it, until I got
on to a.s.c.  I posted what I had written, and was besieged by requests to
finish the damn thing.  Which I have finally done.

A word of warning:  this story is an alter-ego story.  No doubt about it.  I
have in the interest of self-respect, kept the wish-fulfillment bits to a
minimum, but they are there.  No doubt about it.

Another word of warning:  this story, in true Amber fashion, leaves several
threads hanging.  Part of that came on purpose, some of it just happened.  When
I actually get through with school, I might rewrite this work and expand on
several issues.  Until then, I'm sorry if you don't like it.

Also, this story, of course, became impossible once BOBW2 came out (not that
it was ever a possibility.)  But isn't that one of the fun things about fan
fiction?

The story begins at the moment BOBW1 ends:  Locutus of the Borg has stated his
demands, and Riker has just ordered the deflector-dish weapon to fire.


                          Chapter 1


        "Fire!" said Riker.  He looked at his captain's face for what would be
the last time.
        "Belay that order!" snapped another voice.  Riker looked in shock at
the motley group of people entering the bridge.  They were led by Lt. Chalice
Corey, a theoretical physicist.  He didn't know her well;  she had kept much to
herself during her six months on the ship.  She had a reputation for being a
quiet, hard-working scientist.  But following her, though--there was a tall,
dark man wearing Renaissance-like green and black velvet, another in shades of
blue, a tall woman with flame-like hair in copper-colored armor, and a
short woman with cloudy dark hair wearing several scraps of orchid-and-silver
cloth.
        "Corey, what the--What the hell do you think you're doing?"
        "Saving your butts.  Hang on.  This could get a little rough."  She
raised her arms, closed her eyes, and after a few seconds a brief, grey
shimmering appeared, and in it, Captain Picard/Locutus.  The red-head spoke a
phrase and immediately he was encased in a shining wall.  The taller man
touched Corey's shoulder.  She nodded up at him, and spoke three words.
        The Borg ship exploded.  No weapons were fired; no chain reaction
appeared; it simply blew up.
        "Brace for EM shock wave." said Worf.  It hit the next second.  As soon
as everyone had regained their feet (and their composure) Riker turned to
Corey.
        "Lieutenant, I would like an explanation."
        "Commander, I think you deserve one."
        "In the briefing room, if you please.  All of you.  Counselor, please
join us.  Data, you have the bridge."
        "Don't touch the captain," ordered the redhead as they all trooped out.
        "Now, Lieutenant.  That explanation, if you please."
        Corey took a deep breath and stepped forward.  "Commander Riker,
there's no way the Federation can handle the Borg.  They'll eat you alive, and
you know it."
        Riker said nothing.  She continued, "More advanced races have lost to
them.  Ask Guinan.  What makes you think you're special?"
        "What do you suggest?"
        "You need our help."
        "Who or what are you?  Why should you want to help?"  Carefully, he
lowered himself into the captain's seat.  "And what did you do to the Borg
ship?"
        "Taking your questions one at a time," Corey replied, also sitting
down, "My name is Chalice, and I am a Princess in Amber.  These people are
members of my family:  Merlin, Fiona, Mandrake, and Clarissa.  I brought them
here to help me;  the job is rather too large for just one of us.  Besides, the
family that plays together, stays together.
        "We want to help because we have a particular fondness for this Shadow.
We like humans.  We like Romulans and Talosians and Vulcans and Betazoids and
even Klingons."
        "What about Ferengi?" Riker asked.
        "Don't push your luck," she shot right back.  Then she smiled.  "But we
don't like Borg, or their kind.  As for what I did to them, well, let's just
call that one of my nastier tricks.  It's rather a difficult spell to use, but
the results are worth it."
        "Spells?"  asked Deanna.  "You mean you used magic?"
        "In a manner of speaking, yes.  I'm a sorceress.  We're all sorcerers.
Does that bother you?"  She smiled charmingly.
        "Whether it bothers us or not is not the point.  We've seen what your
'magic' can do.  What are you going to do now?  I presume you have some sort of
plan."
        "Well, yes.  Wasn't it Knute Rockne who said 'the best defence is a
good offence'?  We're going to attack the Borg home planet."
        Riker stood.  "Are you crazy?"
        Merlin smiled.  "No one has ever accused this family of excessive
sanity."  Corey's family seemed to be getting restive.
        "Is Luke done yet?" Fiona said.
        "Ask him," said Mandrake.
        Fiona pulled out a group of cards--to Riker they appeared similar to
the Tarot deck--and selected one. The others watched as she gazed into it and
then, with a rainbow-like shimmering, another man appeared in the room,
clasping Fiona's hand.  "Hello, Auntie," he said and kissed her cheek.  Then he
sat down and put on his shoes, which he had been holding.
        "Was it nice?" said Merlin blandly.
        Luke was not put off.  "Wonderful," he grinned.  He ran his fingers
through his disordered hair and tucked in his shirttails.
        "As I was about to say," Chalice continued impatiently, "We've won the
Federation a bit of time.  I know you still have lots of questions, and I'll be
glad to answer them, but they'll have to wait just a bit.
        "You've seen a sample of what we can do.  We of Amber are going to
eradicate the Borg.  What we need to know is whether you want to be in on it or
not?"
        "Count us in."
        "Good."
        "But I can't speak for Starfleet Command."
        "I understand.  If at any time, for any reason, you want out, just say
so and we'll turn back."
        The intercom beeped. "Laforge to Riker."
        "Riker here.  What is it, Geordi?"
        "We've got some pretty strange things going on down in the
shuttlecraft bay."
        "Oh, those are our ships, Commander."  Chalice said.
        Riker nodded.  "It's all right.  The owners will be down to collect
them soon."
        As they left the briefing room, Riker asked, "What if we meet more Borg
on the way?"
        "I'll deal with them."


                           Chapter 2



        Inside of the Shuttlecraft Hangar were four of the strangest ships Riker
had ever seen.  The strangers exchanged casual, almost cool farewells among
each other, and all but Merlin went to their ships, Mandrake and Clarissa going
together.  One by one, three of the four ships went up the the Bay and launched
into space.
        Merlin looked down at Chalice.  "I'm damned if I'm leaving with  a
handshake," he said and gathered her into a voracious embrace.  When he
released her and strode to his green-and-black miniature bird-of-prey, she was
gasping for breath.
        In response to Riker's bemused expression, Lt. Corey replied weakly,
"We're a close family."
        "I don't suppose you'd care to tell us more about them."
        "Why not?  The cat's out of the bag already."  They went to her
quarters.  Riker and Troi were shocked at the richness of the room.  Comfort
was expected, but not Unicorn tapestries and two-meter long jade dragons.
         They all sat down and made themselves comfortable--extremely
comfortable.  A scent tickled Riker's nose.  He wasn't sure if it was flowers
or incense, but it was very nice.  With an effort he brought himself back to
business.
        "First question.  What do we do about the Captain?"
        She thought for a moment and finally said, "I suppose you should take
him to Sickbay.  Commander Data, Commander Laforge, and Doctor Crusher can see
what they can do for him.  He's in stasis for an indefinite period of time, so
the ship is in no danger from him."
        "What if there's nothing we can do?"
        "Captain Picard is in no danger, either.  It's perfectly safe to leave
him in stasis until we can help him."
        Riker gave the necessary orders.
        "You were going to tell us about your family," Deanna said.
        "Yes.  I suppose it all begins with my brother Oberon.  He's dead now.
I think.  In fact, he died before I was born.  Oberon was king in Amber."
        "What, exactly, is Amber?" Riker asked.
        "It's a rather special place.  I may take you there someday.
        "Anyhow, Oberon was married about five times and had nobody-knows how
many mistresses.  All told, he had about twenty children.  Fiona is one.  These
princes and princesses spent centuries feuding and plotting and eventually
succeeded in killing almost all of each other off.  The Castle is almost empty
now.  Let's see:  Merlin is Prince Corwin's son, Luke is Benedict's son, and
Clarissa is Flora's daughter, but she was adopted by Fiona.  Nobody knows where
she found Mandrake.  Who else?--oh, Martin.  He's King Random's son.  Merlin,
by the way, is also my husband."
        "You married your own great-nephew?"
        "Like I said, it's a close family."  Chalice replied, grinning.
"Really, though, intra-family liasons are not all that common.  We usually go a
little farther afield."
        "And you're all sorcerers," Riker said.
        "Oh, no.  Just a few of us.  Me, Merlin, Fiona, Clarissa, Luke.
Mandrake and Martin are just along for moral support."
        "By the way," Riker said carefully, "what's your lifespan?"
        Chalice laughed.  "I was wondering if you'd catch that.  Virtually
immortal.  I spend a lot of time dodging Dr. Crusher.  It didn't get bad until
about forty years ago.  Since then diagnostic techniques have gotten
sophisticated enough to pinpoint that I'm not exactly human."
        "So, Lieutenant, what is the plan you and your family have developed to
save the Federation?"
        "Well, Commander--Captain?" Riker indicated that it didn't matter which
rank she used, "right now it's a little fuzzy.  I will pilot the Enterprise to
the rendezvous point--"  She broke off and a furrow appeared between her eyes.
        "What's wrong, Chalice?" Deanna asked.
        "I just realized--a warp six hellride.  Zowie."  Seeing their
confusion, she smiled and said, "You don't understand.  That's okay.  You will
soon enough.
        "So.  Everyone else is off gathering armadas from various other
Shadows.  We'll meet up and attack the Borg, and, hopefully, drive them back
where they came from."
        Deanna got up to take a closer look at the unicorn tapestry.  It looked
genuine.  She hadn't suffered through that minor in Art History for nothin.
But it wasn't like any other similar work she'd ever seen before.  "That's the
second time you've mentioned Shadows, Chalice," she said.  "What do you mean by
that?"
        "Shadows are different realities; different universes.  As one who has
walked the Pattern of Amber, I have the power to travel between different
Shadows.  And I can take others with me.
        "Commander, your biggest problem with the Borg is that they assimilate
and adapt to new technology so quickly, right?"
        "Right," he said cautiously.
        "So we want to hit them so quickly, and with so many different
technologies, all at once, that they won't stand a chance.
        "But now, sir, i really need to rest up.  I've got a warp six hellride
coming, and a lot of spells to hang."
        "What course should we  set?"
        "It really doesn't matter.  I should stop and effect whatever repairs
you can do in, say, six hours."

        As they returned to the bridge, Riker asked Deanna for her advice.
        "I'd trust her.  I like Chalice--she's smart and honest.  She's been
evasive about some things, but now we know why.  And she really does know what
she's doing.  I'd stake the Sacred Chalice of Reeks on it."
        "I'm still not happy about it."
        "Well, then, Will, think about it this way.  What better options do we
have right now?"

        Six hours later, Chalice took her place at the Com station.
        "Is there anything we need to do to prepare for this?" Riker said.
        "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."
        "All right, then.  Mr. Crusher, ahead warp factor six."
        "Warp factor six, sir."
        At first nothing unusual happened.  After about ten minutes, though,
Data reported that he could not state the ship's location.  Then an unfamiliar
nebula appeared off the starboard bow.  An asteroid field of giant rough
diamonds flashed by, and they skirted around a cluster of seven stars orbiting
each other so closely they sucked matter from their neighbors.
        Space slowly lightened to a deep emerald green.  A blue whale swam
lazily by and waved at them.
        "Captain, that whale is travelling at warp factor six-point-two," Data
said.
        Riker took a deep breath.  He was getting less and less sure of what
he'd let the ship in for.  Next to him, Shelby was staring at him,  silently
urging him to go back to sane behavior.
        Chalice sat back.  "Follow the whale, Wes," she said.  He did and they
went through the deepening blue space after the animal.  Space continued to
change colors around them:  from sapphire it darkened into violet, then purple,
wine, and finally crimson.
        "Data," asked Shelby, "what do sensors show about the coloration around
us?"
        "We are passing through a field of photons with uniform frequencies,
Commander.  There is no danger to the ship."
        "I see," she said, leaning back.  Maybe, Riker thought, she was unhappy
that they weren't in more danger.
        As the first hint of yellow lightened the sky, Chalice said, "Take us
on a heading of 1.57 mark zero."
        Obediently, the ship shot nearly vertically out of the photon field,
and space was black around them once more.
        "Rear view on auxiliary screen," Riker said.  "Let's see where we've
been."  On the small screen appeared a rainbow weaving like a drunken ribbon
through space.  "Do you suppose if we followed it we'd find a pot of gold?" he
murmered to Deanna.  She smiled.  "By the way, is there anything out there
sensors aren't reading?"
        "Nothing I can't pick up.  I'll keep you posted--there!"
        Riker looked at the main screen.
        Across the deep blackness of space cut a strip of flat blackness.
        "Worf," he snapped, "what is that?"
        "Sensors show nothing there."
        "There's something there, all right."
        "Does your Betazoid ESP tell you that?"  Shelby asked.
        "No, my human gut instinct."
        "I know what you mean," Riker said.  "What is that, Chalice?"
        "The Black Road.  It's probably how the Borg got into your Shadow."
        "What do you mean, into *our* Shadow?"
        "They aren't native to your galaxy, or even your universe.  They're
from a nearby Shadow, where life is considerably--different--from yours.
        "Steer around the Road, Wesley."
        They avoided it with ease.  A giant teacup powered with steam flashed
past them.
        "They're from a different Shadow?  But they look humanoid."
        "A lot of Shadows have humanoids, Captain Riker."  A school of
kilometer-long space jellyfish gambolod across their path.
        "Data, as soon as sensors show a ring nebula with exceptionally strong
ouput in the 4.5 MHz range, let me know.  We should be there soon."
        Within three minutes Data reported finding the nebula in question.  As
they approached it, sensors showed a large number of ships in the immediate
vicinity, of several varietes, none of them known to the Federation.


with steam flashed by.


                            Chapter 3

        "Captain, we are being hailed," Worf said.
        "On visual."
        Merlin's face appeared on the screen.  "What took you so long?  You're
the last to arrive."
        "We only had to come twice as far as all the others."  Chalice replied.
"Is the Council ready?"
        "Ready and waiting."  Merlin gave the co-ordinates, deep in the heart of
a spherical black battle station.
        Riker stood.  "Shelby, Data, Deanna, and Geordi, come with me.  Worf,
you have the conn.  After you, Your Highness."  The Away Team followed Chalice
to Transporter room three.
        When they materialized Riker noticed three things at once:  first, the
room they were in was cheerfully decorated in shades of black, grey, and silver;
second, the alien commander was either an android or else he wore some kind of
grotesque black mask which filtered his breathing;  and third, Chalice had
changed her clothes during the transport.  She now wore a Renaissance-style
gown of crimson velvet with lavish silver embroidery and pearls.
        Merlin bowed gracefully;  the alien officers went to their knees.
Chalice stepped forward and took her husband's proffered arm.  The alien
commander rose and joined the Enterprise team.
        The corridors continued the battle stations sunny decorating scheme.
And honor guard of officers in grey or black uniforms and crew in white
armor lined their route.
        The councis room was circular, fifteen meters in diameter, and (of
course) had black walls, floor, and furnishings.  The ceiling only was white
with elaborate geometric moldings.  The round table was nearly full.  Two seats
were empty at the far side, clearly intended for the sorcerers, since the
other people of Amber were grouped together there.  The huge man in the mask
took his place with two other men wearing the grey uniform of the station.  A
wide variety of alen beings, some humanoid, some not, filled the room.  Half a
dozen small orange scaly humanoids sat next to two cylindrical shapes topped
by domes and a variety of metal limbs.  An android, far more primitive than
Data, slumped in a chair, ignored by everyone.
        Chalice and Merlin took their seats.  Three seats near the bottom of
the table remained empty;  Riker, Shelby, and Troi took them.  Data and
LaForge stood.
        Chalice spoke first.  "We welcome all of you here and acknowledge
the inconvenience and effort you have made to join this fleet.  We wish to
thank Governor Ginalt for the use of this station as a meeting place.  I am
sure there is no question in your minds about why we are here today.
        "Some of you have encountered the Borg before, and have suffered
because of it.  Others have only seen the destruction they they wrought."
        The android muttered, "High time somebody did the job."  The man at
Chalice's left, who wore a black leather jacket, a studded collar, three
earrings, and blue hair, threw a paperweight at him.  It bounced harmlessly
off the android's metal body.
        "Shut up, Marvin," the man said.

        Chalice continued, "We acknowledge all your contributions to this war.
The purpose of this council is to formulate our strategy.  Captain Riker and
Commanders Shelby, Data, and LaForge are our resident experts on the Borg.
Captain, will you fill in the rest of the group?"
        Riker cleared his throat and stood.  "Yes, of course.  The Federation
first encountered the Borg several months ago . . . ."  Succinctly the four of
them told of their encounters.  When they were done, one of the metal beings
intoned "This information comes from Humans.  Humans are inferior beings.
Daleks require more accurate information."  Riker decided he didn't like
Daleks much.  But he said, "We will gladly send you the complete files in our
computers."
        "I trust that will be acceptable, Dalek,"  Chalice said.  "I personally
vouch for the records accuracy."
        "That is acceptable."
        "Are there any more question?"  Chalice said.  "Good.  The Borg's most
formidible attribute is the skill with which they adapt to new technologies.
You each get one chance at them, and then you must fall back.  After one shot,
they will have analyzed your weaponry and capabilites, offensive and defencive,
and they'll cut you up like rice paper.  After one shot, you fall back.  One of
us will guide the survivors back home.
        "The Enterprise has already had her shot.  She stays at the rear of the
fleet to act as a command center.  It shouldn't be too hard to find the Borg,
either.  All we need to do is to follow the Black Road and they will find us.
        "Our main task here is to fix the batting order, as it were.  Who wants
to go first?"
        "The honor of the Empire demands that we have the premier place," said
the dessicated man next to the Mask.
        "Very will, Governor Ginalt.  The Death Star may have that honor.  Who
will be next?"
        "The Daleks" and "The Sontaran Centurions" were spoken simultaneously.
"The Borg will be exterminated," continued the Dalek alone.  "The Sontarans do
not follow the Daleks in anything," insisted a stubby humanoid in a silver suit.
        "Very well.  The Daleks and the Sontarans may attack together.  Who
next?"
        "We will!! We will!!  We will die gloriously in the service of Amber!!"
shouted the little orange guys who had barely restrained themselves up to now.
        "I don't think that's wise," said Luke.  "We will have had two direct
attacks;  the third encounter should be more--subtle.  Storkey, you're number
three."
        A humanoid who bore a strong resemblance to a Tellarite with mange
nodded, spat, and scratched vigorously as if for fleas.  Admiral Ginalt
looked pained.
        "After that, the Kanossians may demonstrate their loyalty to Amber,"
Chalice decided.  They jumped up and down in glee.  Riker wondered if they were
going to turn somersaults on the polished table.  "Marvin, you're number five on
the hit parade."
        "Don't you mean hit list?"  Marvin mumbled.
        Chalice turned to Merlin.  "How are the nanites going?"
        "Pretty well.  Luke has been doing some refinements on them."
        "They've gobbled up everything we've thrown at them and begged for
more," Luke said.
        "Pity you couldn't try them on Marvin," Mandrake muttered.  Smiles
passed around the table.
        "Here I sit, brain the size of a planet, and listen to insults.  Life.
Don't talk to me about life," Marvin complained.
        "Merlin, is Ghost ready?"  Chalice said, ignoring the distractions.
        "He's working on it."
        "What's the problem?"
        "Well, the Shadows we want are all either too close to Amber for comfort
or else way off near Chaos."
        "And?"
        "And Ghost doesn't like messing with either one."
        "Tell him he'd better find a place soon or we'll send them to him.  His
Shadow is perfectly adequate for our needs."
        "Chalice . . ." Merlin said calmly.
        "What?"
        "Treating him that way doesn't work.  He might just go off and sulk.
What good will that do us?"
        "Just make sure he's ready when we need him."
        "With all due respect," asked Shelby, "Just what do you people plan on
doing?  Leading the cheering section?"
        Several of the nobles of Amber turned imperious glares on her.  Fiona
seemed about to speak, but Merlin forestalled her.
        "There's no guarantee that any of you will succeed.  Nevertheless,
this mission must not fail. We," he raised his arms, indicating his family,
"will be nearby at all times;  if one attack fails, then we will step in and
use our powers.  Frankly, we hope we're just leading the cheering section."
        "I don't see why--"
        "Because a) there are only a few of us;  b) in the short term our
powers are limited; and, c) if any of us die, then some of you don't go home.
If you don't want to be stranded forever in a strange shadow, I suggest you
not argue."
        Shelby opened her mouth but no words came out.  Her hands went to her
throat.  Deanna stood and looked at the Mask.  "Let her go," she said.
        Mask waved a finger negligently and Shelby could breathe again.
        "My apologies, Commander,"  Admiral Ginalt said.  "Lord Vader is
sometimes a little . . . impatient . . . with those who lack a proper respect
for authority."
        "My apologies,"  Riker replied.  "Commander Shelby meant no real
disrespect."
        Chalice inclined her head.  "Apology accepted, Commander.  I believe
this council stands adjourned."


        Back on the Enterprise, Riker ordered the other members of the away
team to prepare full reports on what they had seen, hears, or otherwise
learned aboard the Death Star.  (Data simply downloaded his short-term
memory into the main computer).
        The fleet followed the Black Road.  As they progressed, it expanded
until it stretched out as far as sensors could show.  The Black Road became
a Black Plane.
        They had not been underway when the first Borg Cubeship appeared.
        The Death Star moved forward, away from the fleet.  The Borg Cube
stopped, and the two ships hung motionless for several minutes.  "Data, check
all frequencies.  What are they saying?" Shelby said.
        "There are no communications between the two ships."
        "I suppost they're doing the same initial surveillance they did to us.
They've probably beamed somebody over to learn the technology."
        "Well, Ginalt had better not wait.  The Borg learn awfully fas--"
Riker was remarking when eight blue beams leapt out of the crater in the
station's hull.  They met, and in a Newtonian collision pattern, one huge beam
surged toward the Borg ship.
        The Borg ships collapsed almost immediately, and in seconds the ship was
nothing but dust rejoining the interstellar matter out of which it had come.
        Data's cool voice cut through the cheers on the bridge.  "Captain, the
Borg ship let off a high-energy burst .2 seconds before their destruction."
        "A communications packet?"
        "It seems likely."
        "Direction?"
        "1.7 mark 1.41"
        "Straight back up the road," Shelby murmured.  "Can we intercept?"
        "Negative.  The packet's speed was warp 9.87. It is now beyond sensor
range."
        "Then they'll be warned,"  said Riker.
        Chalice opened hailing frequencies.  "Attention, all ships.  The Borg
have been warned of our presence.  Death Star, assume new position.  All ships,
full speed ahead."  She closed the curcuit, leaned back, and added grimly,
"Into the Valley of Death rode the six hundred."


                              CHAPTER 4

        The fleet had barely assumed its new formation when the next Borg ship
approached.  Immediately the Sontaran battle fleet, followed closely by the
hemispherical Dalek cruiser, attacked.
        Disruptor beams flashed back and forth;  the Sontaran beams splashed
harmlessly into the Borg shields.  Then the Enterprise screen was filled with
the glare of explosions.
        "What is that?" Riker asked.
        "The Sontarans are overloading their engines and charging the Borg
ship,"  Data answered.
        "They're turning themselves into antimatter torpedoes," Wesley added.
        "Best use for them,"  Merlin muttered.
        "Borg sheilds remain at 100 percent efficiency," reported Data. "The
Sontaran fleet is completely eliminated."
        Chalice was holding a card and seemed to be talking to it as if it
were a communication device. "Fiona, you're up."  She listened intently and
nodded, passed her hand over the face of the card and was about to address
Riker when another explosion occured.
        "The Dalek ship has been eliminated, sir," Worf reported.
        "Captain Riker, withdraw--maximum speed."
        "Why?"
        "No time to explain.  Just do it."
        "Wesley, get us out of here.  Best possible speed."
        "Aye, sir."  As the ship pulled away Riker ordered 360 degree view on
the main screen. The picture split, with the center still showing forward,
while around it were views at other angles.  Chalice gripped the railing and
concentrated on the center picture, while around them the rest of the fleet
fled in different directions.
        The Borg ship disappeared.  At nearly the same moment the ship was
wrenched backwards by a tremendous force, which was all Riker was aware of
in the moments before he blacked out.


        Something was itching near his nose.  Riker reached up to scratch and
he realized that it was carpet.  He blinked and tried to sit up.  That wasn't
a good idea.  Waves of dizziness and nausea rolled over him.  Hands helped him
to a standing position, and it took him a moment to place them.  Worf and Data.
        Solahr and the Coreys were also walking.  Several people (Ensigns
Torres and Gomez, as well as young Crusher) were still groping towards
consciousness.  Deanna was still out, as were Geordi and whats-his-name at
Environmental, but Shelby was awake.  And looking none too happy about it.
She slouched in her chair, her head in her hands.
        He touched her shoulder as he sat down.  "Shelby.  How're you feeling?"
        "I think I had a hangover this bad.  Once."  Selahr administered a
hypo.
        "Then you've got a stronger head than I do."  It was his turn for a
shot.  It took a few seconds before he started feeling better--better being a
strictly relative term.  "Data, Lt. Corey, report.  What the hell happened?
Shelby, I need to know the ship's condition."
        Data responded first.  "According to our instruments, we encountered
a sudden gravitational force.  Instruments have not yet succeded in measuring
it accurately."
        "Source?"
        "It would seem to have been the Borg ship."
        "Chalice?  What did your cousin do?"
        "Niece.  Fiona, it would seem, planted a singularity in the core of the
ship."
        "She what?"
        "See why we want to keep our intervention to a minimum?"
        "But at that distance, going that velocity, we shouldn't have escaped,"
he objected.
        Data interrupted their discussion.  "Our instruments are not very
illuminating.  Different sensors show contradictory data."
        "We weren't exactly at that distance, going that speed," Chalice
explained.  "I had just started to shift shadow.  That must have given us the
push we needed to slingshot around the singularity."
        "So where are we now?"
        "Unknown," Data said, and limped off.
        "You got me," Chalice answered.  "Merlin's working on that one now."
        "Shelby, what kind of shape are we in?"
        "Warp engines are offline again.  Impulse power is only at forty
percent efficiency, but steady.  The entire crew, with the exception of
Data was unconscious for between eighty and ninety minutes, but there are
no serious injuries."
        "Thanks.  Data, you were awake?  What happened?"
        The android looked at his hands.  The left-hand fingers twitched
slightly.  "I find it difficult to explain, sir."
        "Are you all right, Data?" asked the now-awake Troi.
        "Negative, Counsellor.  I, too, am operating at lessened efficiency."
        Riker hit his communicator.  "Bridge to Engineering.  Geordi, what's
the problem?"
        "I can't say, sir.  I've tried rerouting power, boosting the
generators, everything short of scrubbing the cables.  The power's just not
there--the whole system's at about forty percent."
        Chalice cleared her throat.  Riker nodded and signed off.  "What is
it, Lieutenant?"
        "We've got it figured out."
        "And?"
        "And you're not going to like it," Merlin said.
        "I already don't like it."
        "Well, Chalice had started to shift shadow when the gravity well
grabbed us . . ."
        "Tell me something I don't know," he snapped.  His head had
subsided to the level of a moderately bad volcanic eruption.
        Merlin stiffened, but a nudge from Chalice kept him talking.
" . . . and I gave us a little extra kick before I went under.  We've
ended up in a different shadow, one where certain chemical and electro-
magnetic processes operate under different rules."  He smiled pleasantly.
        "You mean they don't work."
        "Correction, Captain," Data interrupted.  "They appear to operate,
but at lessened efficiency."
        "Can your friends get us out?"
        Merlin grinned this time.  "I've been unable to make contact with any
of them.  Which means they can't talk to us, they won't talk to us, or that
the signal isn't getting through."
        "We think it's the third thing."  Chalice added.
        "What you mean is that we're on our own."
        "That's correct."
        "And you two are nothing more than inconvenient passengers."
        "With all due respect, Captain, Merlin is an inconvenient passenger.
I am a duly commisssioned Starfleet officer."
        Shelby seemed about to respond to this statement, but Riker forestalled
her.  "Acknowledged, Lieutenant.  Can you and the 'inconvenient passenger' find
a way out of here?"
        "We'll work on it."
        Riker turned to Troi.  "Can you sense anything?"
        She shook her head as if to clear it.  "Quite a bit, actually.  The
conditions which make it hard for the computers seem to make things easier for
me.  The crew is responding well, all things considered, to this situation.  I
sense no other life around us, however.  In fact, we may be the only living
things in this entire universe."
        Riker felt a faint twinge of unease.  To be the only living things in
an entire universe was not an honor he had ever craved.  "Right.  Chalice--"
        "Pizza, anyone?" Merlin said, holding a green-and-gold box with strange
characters printed on it.
        "Where did you get that?"
        "Well, like the engines, it seems our magic works, but at a reduced
level.  I've never worked so hard for a pizza in my life.  Beer, that's another
story."  Sure enough, several bottles sat on the floor near his feet.
        "Logrus works, then?" Chalice asked.
        "Seems to.  But it's hard, like reaching through granite."
        "Then Pattern magic should work."
        "Should."  Merlin opened the box.  "Ugh.  Anchovies, fried eggs, and--
prunes?"  He closed the box again.  "Last time I order from these guys."
        "We should be able to shift shadow."
        "You want to go back to the battle?"
        "No.  We couldn't do any good there.  But we could find out what hap-
pened, and take care of Captain Picard."
        "Home?"
        Chalice nodded, and the two magicians conferred for a few minutes.
Worf sniffed the discarded pizza and, apparently deciding it was to his liking,
set it aside for later consumption. The magicians reached a decision, and
Chalice said, "Captain Riker, we aren't inconvenient after all."
        He took a deep breath.  Here we go again, he thought.  "Briefing room,
please, everyone."


                           CHAPTER 5

        Once the senior oficers were assembled, Chalice outlined the plan.
The Enterprise and the magicians would combine their energies to find a class-M
planet.  A small party would then beam down with Captain Picard (still in
stasis) and would travel to Amber, where they could heal Picard and discover the
fate of the Borg and the rest of the armada.  Then they would return to the
ship, and Chalice would conduct the Enterprise back to the Federation.
        "Why do you want to find a planet?" asked Shelby.
        Chalice and Merlin looked at each other, and Riker could almost see
them mentally scratching their heads.  Clearly this question had never come
up before.  "Theoretically, we don't," Merlin said finally.  "But it's much
easier that way:  the more similar the surroundings are when we start, the
faster the trip."
        "And if your plan doesn't work?"
        "You'll be no worse off than you are now."
        "What about the Borg?"  Shelby clearly didn't like the idea of more
shadow-shifting and other magic.  In fact, it was obvious she didn't like
anything about how this mission had turned out.
        "As soon as we can contact someone else, we'll know," Merlin replied.
His temper was beginning to wear a little short, too.
        "You'll excuse us if we're not overly confident in you."
        Merlin stood.  "Captain Riker," he said, turning his back on Shelby,
"you are in the service of the Royal House of Amber.  It's not your place to
express confidence or the lack of it."
        "Ours is not to reason why?" Riker asked.
        "My father was in the Charge of the Light Brigade;  he was one of the
handful of survivors."  Merlin replied, sitting down again.
        "So, Captain," Chalice remarked, "if you would instruct Commander
LaForge to move the ship, we'll start the job."

        Somewhat disgruntled, the officers resumed their bridge positions.
"What do you think of your friend Chalice now?"  muttered Riker to Troi.
        "*I* have confidence in them," she answered.  "Even though this has
not worked out at all as they had hoped, they are still sure of their ability
to handle whatever comes up.  I think they're used to surprises.
        "And, Will, don't worry about the ship.  Their number-one goal is to
get the Enterprise and all of her crew home safely."
        The ship moved forward at a snail's crawl.  This time, it seemed to
be Merlin guiding their course.  At first it appeared difficult, even for him.
After about twenty minutes, a bright blue nebula appeared off the port bow.  It
took the ship another ten minutes to reach and enter it.  "Go towards the
yellow spot, Wesley," Merlin said.
        "What yellow spot?"
        "Look for sodium traces," Chalice said.  A narrow tongue of gas,
slightly greener than the surrounding cloud, snaked near them.  Wesley
followed the vein, which got yellower and yellower.
        As he did so, the whole atmosphere changed subtly.  The lights seemed
brighter, the sounds clearer.  Riker's headache finally cleared away completely.
        "Captain Riker, the engine room reports that we have eighty-five
percent impulse power," the Ensign Gomez said.
        "Thank you.  Data, how are you?"
        "I am operating at full efficiency atain, sir."
        "Glad to hear it.  Mr. Crusher, begin scanning for potential systems."
        "Not quite yet, Captain," Chalice said.  "We're close, but we aren't
to the shadow we need yet.  Keep going until we hit familiar space.  Then halt.
Whatever you do, maintain radio silence.
        "Merlin is going to work with the Ghostwheel to find the exact shadow
we want.  If Ghost feels like cooperating.  Keep going, Wes."
        "Forward half-speed, Ensign," Riker said.  This whole thing was really
starting to get to him, too.  Pressure on his arm made him look over at Troi.
        "Let's talk." she murmured.
        "Commander Shelby, you have the bridge."  He led the way back to the
briefing room;  he couldn't stomach the thought of using the Ready Room as his
own. "Well, Deanna?  What's on your mind?"
        "Plenty.  While we were in that 'shadow', I told you that my senses
were heightened."
        "And did you learn anything of interest?" he said, not hiding his lack
of interest.
        "I had a glimpse into the minds of Chalice and Merlin.  Will, you have
no idea how powerful these beings are;  they manipulate reality the way we do
computer programs."
        "Like the Q?"
        "Not as fast or as showy, maybe, but yes.  And on a much vaster scale.
And not so arbitrarily, either, thank the Rings of Betazed."
        "You mean they could do what Q does?"
        "They could do--anything.  I got the strong impression that Merlin
would rather enjoy turning Shelby into a coatrack."
        "I'll keep her busy."
        "One other thing, Will.  I also got a whiff of . . . well, you could
call it precognition."
        "You saw the future?"
        "Futures.  Not so much 'saw,' as . . ."  She sighed.  "Damn, it's hard
to describe.  I got an impression of an incredibly twisted, convoluted set of
paths, branching and connecting in uncountably many combinations.  And if
those two are heading for the path I think they are, we're in for some fun."


                                CHAPTER 6

        The door opened and Shelby entered.  "We're here."
        "Where?" asked Riker, following her back to the bridge.
        "Starbase 45.  Only it's not."
        "What do you mean, it's not?"
        "There are no life signs anywhere on the planet or in the station,"
Data replied.
        "But half a million people live on Doozer."  Mostly Tellarites, it was
true, but Federation citizens nonetheless.
        "Not this Doozer," said Chalice.  She stood on tiptoe and kissed her
husband lightly.  "Good work, darling.  Very fine-tuned shifting."  She turned
to Riker.  "That, sir, is a fully-equipped starbase.  Commander Laforge and his
staff can find all the tools and equipment they need to get the mains online
again, while Merlin, I, and whomever else you choose beam down to the surface
and go in search of Amber."
        "Before you start assembling equipment," Merlin added, "I should warn
you that electronic devices don't work in Amber.  Don't weigh yourselves down
with too much stuff.  And I'm afraid Data can't go.  I'm sorry about that, Data.
You'd find it fascinating."
        "You need not apologize, sir.  I presume that those conditions preclude
your bringing back tricorder recordings as well."
        "I'm afraid so."
        "Then," Riker said, "the away team will consist of myself, Counsellor
Troi, Dr. Crusher, and Lt. Worf.  Geordi, I'll need and anti-grav gurney to
carry Captain Picard, and put some wheels on it.  When the power fails, we can
pull it."
        "I'll have it for you in ten minutes."  Geordi left the bridge with
Merlin and Chalice.
        "Captain Riker," Shelby said, ice dripping off every word, "regulations
clearly prohibit--"
        "Stuff regulations, Shelby.  I'm going down, and you can't stop me."
        "And what do you think you'll be accomplishing by that?"
        "You once accused me of not being able to make the 'big decisions.'
Well this is one I have no trouble with."
        "I'm not entirely happy with some of your decisions, *Captain*."
        "Well, *Commander*, you can register your complaints with the
appropriate authorities when we get back home.  Until then, you'll just have
to live with it.  You have the ship until my return."  Followed by Worf and
Troi, he left the bridge.
        In Transporter Room Four, the three found Dr. Crusher and the Coreys
waiting for them.  Picard's still, mutilated body lay on a gurney.  Looking at
him gave Riker the creeps.
        "I've found a nice meadow for you, sir," O'Brian said as they
stepped onto the platform.
        "Thank you, Chief.  Energize."

        The meadow was lovely.  A few late wildflowers brightened the tall
grass, and in the distance they could hear what sounded like a whipporwhill.
Looking around, Riker noticed Chalice had changed her clothes again.  The
crimson velvet gown was replaced by silvery tunic, trousers, and cloak, and a
mail-shirt of some metal he'd never seen before.  The jeweled pendant she'd
worn before still hung around her neck, though.  "Do you change outfits
every time you step into a transporter beam, Lieutenant?"  he asked.
        "Only when it's convenient, Commander."
        "You're wearing armor.  Do you expect trouble?"
        "When going to Amber, it's best to be prepared for any eventuality."
        "Hey!" Merlin said.  "That's mithril!  Where did you find mithril?"
        "Where one usually finds it."
        "In a barrow?"
        "That's right.  And I'm not telling you where it is, so don't even
ask."
        "What is mithril?" Worf asked, interested.
        "A metal alloy invented and worked by elven folk in ancient times,
lighter, stronger, and lovelier than any other," replied Troi.  "My father
reared me on Tolkien," she explained.  She reached out a hand to touch Chalice's
sleeve.  "So it really exists."
        "Of course.  Everything really exists, if you only know how to look."
        "Speaking of places to look, which way do we go?" Riker asked Merlin.
        He turned to Chalice.  "Majesty?"
        Chalice of Amber, Princess of the Unicorn, shaded her eyes and looked
around.  "That way," she said, indicating a pleasant way following a brook.
She and Merlin led the way, followed by Troi, then Crusher with the gurney.
Worf and Riker were in the rear.
        At first Riker noticed no changes.  Then he realized that the sky was
a purer, more intense blue than he had ever seen before.  Even Alaska during
midsummer could only approximate it.  The birdsongs had also altered, become
more various and vibrant.
        A light breeze played about as they made their way.  Merlin was
whistling some half-familiar air, and it would all have been very pleasant if he
hadn't been looking at Captain Picard/Locutus the whole time.  Once he tried to
hail the ship;  there was no answer.
        The trees were thicker now, and older.  They left the creek and ascended
a steep hillside.  When they reached the top, they made a sharp turn around a
rocky outcropping.  Worf looked back, then touched Riker's arm and pointed.
The meadow had disappeared.  They were engulfed in an ancient and verdant
forest.
        They had been walking for nearly an hour, Riker guessed, but the sun
had moved far across the sky.  "Thirsty?" Merlin asked, handing around a
goatskin.
        "We're making good time.  This looks to be near the edge of Arden,"
Chalice remarked.
        "We should be home by nightfall, if all goes well."
        "Except--"
        "Except what?"
        Chalice pointed to the gurney.  "The juice still floweth.  If we were
anywhere close . . ."
        "You're right."
        "Well, let's keep going.  We can only get closer."  The group descended
the other side of the hill.  As they went down, the forest grew thicker, the sky
darker, and the birds silent.  At last the only sounds that broke the gloom
were the wind in the branches and the cry of the owls.  Chalice's mithril-shirt
shimmered in the uncertain light;  Riker seemed to recall that that was a bad
sign.
        "The owls--" Merlin began.
        "Don't say it, Merle," Chalice ordered.
        "The owls are not what they seem."
        Chalice spoke three short words and a bright spark shot from her out-
stretched hand right into the middle of Merlin's back.
        "Ow!"
        "I told you not to say it."  Silence fell and the group tramped along
for some time in the increasing dark, until they could barely see their way.
"We're going the wrong way," Chalice said in an accusing tone.
        "I *know* we're going the wrong way," Merlin replied.  "The road keeps
shifting away from us."
        "Here--let's hold up for a minute."  The group stopped at the base of
a giant redwood, fifteen feet across.  While Merlin conjured up and passed
around a waterbag, Chalice spoke.  "We have a problem."
        "No. Not really.  You?"  Riker answered.
        "We're getting farther from Amber, not closer.  There can be only one
explanation:  someone with comparable powers doesn't want us to get there.
And that means Family."
        "But your family . . ." Crusher began to say, but she was cut off by
Merlin's terse response.
        "Not this family."
        "So we need to be ready for anything.  Take a rest while we work it
out."  Merlin first set to getting light;  he came up with three pine-knot
torches, a large flashlight, and two Coleman lanterns.  Chalice took the pack
of cards from a pouch at her belt, selected several, and concentrated on them
for a time.  She shook her head and put them away.  "No answer.  We must
still be personae non gratae.  We're going to have to walk all the way.  So,
let's get prepared."  She reached into the air and an old-style phaser rifle
materialized in her hands.  She tossed it to Riker.  It was followed by a
particularly lethal-looking machine gun, a sonic disruptor, a dart gun, and
a large variety of blades.  Last of all came mithril shirts and silvery
cloakes like those she wore.  Merlin already had his sword;  he took a pistol,
a Vegan-style laser, a mithril shirt, and a few more blades.  The others
donned the armor and cloaks, and selected the weapons they felt comfortable
with.  Riker took a projectile-firing pistol, a long knife and a bastard
sword.
        Worf gathered as many different weapons as he could stash away in his
uniform and armor and still move freely, a truly awe-inspiring number.  Troi
was too worried about their situation to marvel for more than a moment at the
thought of her very own mithril-shirt and dagger.  She also picked a large
gun that looked as though aim wasn't a terribly important part of its
usefulness.  Crusher took the phaser, a pistol, and a tiny knife that looked
like a scalpel.  She tried to lay a mithril shirt over Picard, but the Borg
circuitry shot off sparks when it touched the ancient metal.
        "Well, that confirms what we thought all along," she said, removing
the shirt from Picard.  "The Borg are basically evil."
        "Hey, Merle," said Chalice, "Take a look at this."  He joined her at
the gurney and watched as she pressed it down.  Whe she released it, it bounced
back up.  "Did that look slow to you?"
        He tried it.  "It's sluggish, all right."
        "That's a good sign.  I think."
        "Maybe.  But this place has a foul stink to it."
        "I thought that was the skunk cabbage."
        "Whatever.  Let's get out of here."
        "Right.  Commander Riker, we're moving out."


                           CHAPTER 7

        Carefully, occasionally stumbling over roots, the group moved forward.
Despite the lamps and torches the darkness clung palpably to them.  A narrow
path corssed their way; they turned to the right and followed it.  It twisted
and jagged around trees and forded foul streams and switchbacked through
steep, bramble-filled ravines.
        At the bottom of such a gorge, deeper than the others, the path didn't
go back up, but followed the bottom.  Near a particularly thick, tall, and
reeking bramble patch, the path was blocked by a man.  Or, more correctly,
something that had once been a man.  One eye was missing;  the flesh hung in
strips from his bones.  Torn and rotting clothing revealed an equally torn and
rotting body below.
        Troi stifled a scream at the sight.  Crusher let a sickened moan
escape.  Worf growled.  Riker didn't say anything, but he was glad he hadn't
eaten recently.  Merlin and Chalice alone took the horrific sight in stride.
        The being raised an arm.  In an hand that was mostly skeleton he held
a gleaming scimitar.  "Nnnoonne shhaallll ppaaaassssss."
        "Zombies," said Merlin.  "They have such a way with words."  Quicker
than the others could follow, he sliced the zombie into seven different
pieces, which lay on the ground and twitched as they proceeded down the path.
        An arrow *whicked* into a tree near Riker's head.  He spun around,
phaser rifle set at disintegrate and saw--nothing.
        Troi screamed, for real this time.  In the beams of the waving flash-
lights Riker could see zombies advancing on them from both sides.  The formerly
lifeless forest had sprouted lifeless warriors from every tree and shrub, from
every bramble patch and stream bed.  Forward they came, dropping clods of flesh,
but holding swords, bows, tommy guns and tomahawks at the ready.
        "Run!" shouted Riker.  He pulled the trigger and cut a wide swath
through the forces.  Worf's machine gun was louder, but just as effective at
blowing away pieces of the attackers.
        The only trouble was, it wasn't enough to blow away just part of them.
Riker quickly learned that he had to hold the phaser on one zombie long
enough to obliterate nearly all of him--almost three seconds apiece.  Too long.
Soon he was using the rifle as a club, swinging it wildly, knocking putrefying
body parts into the bushes.
        Beside him, Worf was now wielding two blades against five zombies.
Past him Merlin fought, his teeth flashing demonaically.  As they retreated,
Riker caught a glimpse of the women:  Chalice was clearing a path for them
while the others steered the gurney along the twisting, narrow path.
        "Back!" Merlin said.  He sliced one bloated attacker into three pieces
and ran, dark sword in hand.
        Riker smashed one skull into shards (which didn't deter the owner at
all), knocked off three arms, and followed Merlin.
        Worf slice-n-diced two more zombies with his swords.  With a flying
hitch-kick he knocked head and trunk off another.  On the rebound, a round-
house punch shattered one unfortunate undead nearly into dust.  He followed the
others down the path while it remained clear. Valor in battle was one thing;
foolishly getting caught behind was another.
        Riker pounded down the path at a dead run, following its twists and
turns in the cloying, fetid darkness as best he could.  Around this boulder,
trip on a root, keep on going--barely--stop!
        The path ended.  So did the mountain.  Momentum propelled him forward
and he made a wild grasp at a branch as he went over the edge.
        And it held.  Riker pulled himself up until his feet were once more
on solid ground.
        Out here the sky was clear, and two full moons illuminated the cliff
side.  "Worf, watch out," he shouted back up into the forest.  "There's a
cliff ahead."  Looking down the rocky slope, he could see the others,
picking their way down.  Merlin had joined them and the four looked like a
wierd funeral party, guiding the bier awkwardly down the hillside, armed to the
teeth, descending to the moonlit mist below.  Worf had joined him by now, and
they chose a likely path.  Clambering down the shale, they joined the others
below.
        "Is everyone all right?" Riker asked. "Good.  After that experience,
I'm surprised we don't all have more that a few cuts and bruises."
        "The mithril helped some," Chalice replied.
        "Your skill with the sword helped more." Riker answered.
        "Have you ever considered a career in Security?" Worf asked her.  She
only grinned.
        "We have one piece of good news," Troi said.  "The electronic devices
have failed.  According to Chalice, that means we could be significantly
closer to Amber."  Sure enough, the gurney's wheels had touched ground.
        Merlin pulled a pistol from his belt and pointed it in the air.  He
pulled the trigger.  Nothing.  He tossed it away.  "You may as well dump
everything electronic and chemical.  From here on out, it's blades only."
With some reluctance they did so before setting out across the misty plain.
Lights flickered and danced in the distance.  Beneath the mist, the ground
was not smooth;  rocks and icy puddles tripped them up.
        "What are those lights?" Troi said.
        "Swamp gas," Crusher replied.
        "Probably," Chalice said.
        "Just to be safe, don't follow them." Merlin said.
        The air was split by a cry--a long, drawn-out, agonizingly anguished
howl.  Worf roared and whipped his scimitar into readiness.
        "I don't want to know what that was," Crusher said shakily when the
last echoes had finally faded away.
        "It was either the Hound of the Baskervilles or a banshee.  Personally,
I hope it's the Hound,"  Merlin said.  "This place kind of reminds me of the
desert where I met the Sphinx.  She told me a riddle, which I guessed, and I
told her one she didn't get.  So I won."
        "What was the riddle?" Riker asked, pulling his leg free from where it
had gotten wedged between two rocks.
        "What's red and green and goes round and round and round?"
        Another howl rent the air near them.  "A frog in a cuisinart."
        "Ha, ha."  Chalice pointed ahead.  "See that tor up there?  It's not too
far.  Let's head for that."  The group pressed forward, trying to cross the
hundred meters of broken ground before they met the Hound.
        "I don't suppose we could take a break?" Troi asked.
        "Afraid not," Merlin replied.  "We should get away from this place
first."
        "YYYOOOOWWWWW!!!"  This time it was only a few feet away, and it was
followed by several snarls and growls.
        "Move it!" Riker shouted.  The group picked up speed, scabbling up the
slope as best they could, and those with swords drew them.
        Something with claws raked Riker's back.  He turned to face his
attacker--a two-meter tall lupine humanoid, wearing curde leather clothing,
but unarmed except for tooth and claw.
        Riker attacked.  Too late he saw White Fang's three friends.


                          CHAPTER 8

        Riker swung his sword.  White Fang dodged and tackled him low.  As
Riker went down he lost his sword, but he still had his kris and he thrust it
deep into White Fang's neck.  It was in his left hand, so the blow wasn't as
well-placed as it should have been, but he twisted the knife as he pulled it
out, and rust-colored blood spurted out gratifyingly.
        Worf leapt over their struggling forms.  He swung each of his blades
at a wolfman.  The first was beheaded instantly;  the second was slowed but
not stopped by the long gash in his chest.  Riker pushed the now-inert
White Fang off and retrieved his sword.  When he turned around, Worf was
putting a knife through one wolfman while another had him in a stranglhold.
Riker tried to get to him, but he found his was blocked by another.  Nearby,
he could see Merlin and Chalice swinging their blades so fast the eye only
caught blue-white arcs.  But for every wolfman they felled, another--or
more often two or three--attacked from the mist.  Even Deanna and Beverly were
involved;  inexpert as they were, their mithril knives seemed to bite
everything they touched.
        Nevertheless, they were outmatched.  Riker staggered from exhaustion;
a claw got under his guard and scraped across his back.  It wasn't the first,
either  Worf, coated in blood, howled in frustration but fought on.  The
gurney had been overturned at some point and Picard was getting stepped on.
Troi went down.
        "That's it," Merlin said.  "Doctor, get Deanna out of here."
        "Where?"
        "Follow me," Chalice said.  She picked up Picard and slung him over
her shoulder as if he were a 5-kilo bag of potatoes.  Holding him with one
arm and with the other fending off the relatively few attackers higher on the
slope, she reached the tor.  The others followed to a crevice barely large
enought for a person, and too small for a wolfman.
        Unfortunately, it was only deep enough for the women and Picard.  Riker,
Worf, and Merlin stood outside and fought off the onfrushing horde.
        To Riker's astonishment, Chalice took out her cards.  "This is no time
for solitaire, Lieutenant."
        "Shut up, Riker," she replied, absently.  Then a few eternally long
minutes later, she shouted, "Everyone take hands and hold on--now!"  Riker felt
Merlin grab him around the waist and



And the world disappeared in a shimmer of rainbows.


                            CHAPTER 9

        When the world reconfigured itself in the form of a small panelled
room lined with bookshelves and tapestries, and illuminated by candles, Riker
was too aghast to do more than blink.
        "Do you know how idiotic you all look?" a cultured male voice said off
to the side.  Riker looked around.  They did indeed look silly.
        Chalice was holding a strange man by one hand and had both Picard and
Troi embraced in the other arm.  Beverly Crusher gripped Troi's shoulder in
her left hand, while her right arm was wrapped around Worf's leg.  Merlin had
one arm around Worf and the other around Riker.  Now he let them go, stepped
forward, and said in an annoyed tone, "Who the hell are you?"
        "You're bleeding all over my carpet."
        Chalice stood, a little wearily.  "Vlad, thank you.  I owe you one for
this.  A big one.  Meet Merlin."
        "So this is the infamous Merlin of Chaos."  Vlad's brown eyes were not
quite level with Merlin's green ones, but they were equally arrogant.  "Merlin,
meet your reclusive cousin Vlad."
        "There's no Vlad in Amber."
        "Don't be an idiot, Merle.  Of course there is.  You know about Osric
and Finndo, don't you?"
        "They're dead."
        "Do you know how they died?"
        "No."
        Chalice's voice turned from tired to icy.  "Quite right.  Do not
presume that you are privy to all the secrets of Amber."
        Merlin looked at Chalice and their eyes locked.  After a moment, he
bowed his head and replied, "No, my Lady."
        Vlad smiled and folded his arms over his slight frame.  "And don't you
start getting ideas, either," Chalice ordered him.  He swept an elegant bow.
"Tell Random we're here;  get an operating room ready; our friends are weary
and wounded.  We need medical attention and guest rooms prepared *now*.  Get
on it."  Vlad left the room.
        "And I want a drink."  She found herself a decanter and glass, poured
herself four fingers of rose-colored liquid, and threw herself in a deep
leather chair.  "By the way, welcome to Amber."
        "Vlad's gonna be pissed at you for bleeding on his chair," Merlin said.
        "His problem," was all Chalice replied.
        Within two minutes, servants poured into the room.  They lifted out
Picard and the unconsious Troi and ushered the others to a suite of decadantly
luxurious room where their various cuts and bruises were treated and dressed,
and they were allowed to sink into deep, hot, scented tubs (except for Worf,
who still had the strength to insist on an ice-cold shower), and then to the
best night's rest they'd had in weeks.

        Riker rolled over and decided he really was awake.  There was a piece of
paper on the elaborately turned table next to his dark wood-canopied and
brocade-hung bed.  He picked it up.
        It was heavy, more like parchment than paper.  It was also blank.  but
as he looked at it, words appeared in black-and-gold calligraphy.

                SCHEDULE OF THE DAY'S EVENTS
                (Geez, don't you think you've slept long
                        enough?  Some people.)
                RIGHT NOW:  Breakfast in the Dining Room
                ONE HOUR FROM NOW:  Captain Picard's
                        Surgery in the Laboratory
                THIS EVENING:  Dinner.  Be there.
                AFTER THAT:  Audience with King Random in
                        the Library
                WHENEVER YOU WANT:  Tour of the Castle,
                        Hunting in the Forest, Meditating
                        in the Gardens.

                Got any questions?  Ask a servant.  What do
                I look like, an information source?

        Riker grinned and rolled out of bed.  A selection of clothing,
including a clean uniform, was in the closet.  He picked out a loose-fiting
sweater in a blue/grey patterned with black, matching trousers, and soft black
boots.  Then he went in search of the dining room.
        Fortunately he met a lackey who led him right to it.  It was a
cavernous, irregularly shaped hall in a style reminiscent of late gothic.
Along one short wall was a long buffet table heaped with food.  Riker nodded to
Worf, Crusher, and Merlin, who were conferring at one table.  He loaded his
plate and joined them.
        "How'd you sleep?" asked Merlin.
        "Terrific.  Is it something in the air?"
        "Could be.  I have to apologize for the schedule.  I was still a little
hammered last night when I set it up and I'm afraid it came out not as I had
intended."
        "No problem.  How's Deanna?"
        "I checked on her first thing this morning," Crusher said.  "She'll be
fine.  It was mostly loss of blood and shock.  She's under orders to stay in
bed until further notice."
        "I'd like to see her."
        "No problem.  I'll drop you off on my way to the surgery."
        "How does that look?"
        "Well," she set down her eggshell coffee cup, "it's difficult to say.
On the Enterprise, with scopes and microscopic lasers, I'd say the prognosis was
pretty good.  I've had a look at their surgery, and while it seems to be
extremely well-equipped, I'm not familiar with a lot of the instruments.  At
least the Captain is still enchanted, so he won't be in any pain during the
surgery."
        "I'd like to watch."
        "I don't think that's a good idea, Will.  It will be very messy, and
it will take several hours.  At least."
        "If you say so."

        Deanna was sitting up in bed.  (Hers was an elaborately draped rose
bon-bon in an equally feminine room.)  She was eating her breakfast with her
left hand;  her right arm was in a sling.  She looked pale and rather weak,
but was reasonably cheerful and very interested in Amber.  Riker stayed with
her while Dr. Crusher went on to the surgery.  Merlin was going to show Worf
the armory.
        Eventually Deanna fell asleep again, so Riker left her and wandered
through endless twisting corridors, up and down staircases, and through what
may have been a secret passageway.  The "door" was wide open, and it seemed to
be a well-traveled way, though.  He passed small sitting rooms, great halls,
and three libraries before he found an outside door.
        The palace grounds were extensive and vaired.  Riker paced restlessly
through rose gardens, a yew maze, and wide expanses of lawn before he
stumbled almost by accident onto a Zen-style meditation garden.  Here he sat
and watched the shadows move across the raked gravel.  Why was it taking so
long?  Surely they should be done by now.  It had been hours.
        Eventually his stomach decided gentle urgings were useless and gave
him a real message.  So he got up and found his way back to the castle.  Once
there he collared one of the inevitable lackeys and ordered his lunch, got
directions to his room, and learned that the captain was still in surgery.
        His lunch came, but he couldn't touch it;  it tasted like cardboard.
The clock ticked away the hours.
        Someone knocked at the door.  It was Beverly Crusher.
        "You look exhausted," he said.
        "I just live for seven-hour surgeries."  She sat down heavily.  "I
need a drink.  What have you got?"
        "What's your pleasure?"
        "Anything.  Just make it stiff."
        He found some bottles in a cabinet and sniffed.  He didn't recognize
anything, but he poured a little of each into a glass and handed it over.
        She took a sip and wrinkled her nose.  "This is terrible," she said,
and she took a long draw.
        "Well, Doctor?" he asked.
        "He'll live.  In fact, he'll be fine.  There was wiring and equipment
in virtually every system in his body, and it took four or five of us, but it's
all out now.  He's sleeping now."
        "Is he still enchanted?"
        "Yes and no.  Chalice removed the stasis spell and replaced it with what
she called 'the healing sleep.' All I know is, he's stable and resting
comfortably."
        "How long will it be before he can travel?"
        "A few days at least.  Maybe a week or so."
        "So we may as well get comfortable here."
        "May as well."  She downed the rest of the drink.  "Well, we've got a
dinner party to get ready for.  Thanks for the booze."


                           CHAPTER 10

        As he entered the dining hall, Riker was momentarily overwhelmed by
the splendor and confusion.  Green, russet, and gold hangings festooned the
walls;  musicians played at the foot of the room;  servants bearing covered
dishes advanced and retreated in a formal dance.
        Five long tables were laid with damask and plate, and not nearly
enough people to fill them were milling around.  Among others, Riker spotted
Martin, slouching in a chair scowling.  He wore formal Victorian evening
dress (white tie and tails was it called?).  His blue mohawk with tail and
skull earring made an interesting contrast with his clothes.  Beverly wore a
gown of sea-green velvet and jewels of the same strange grey-green.  Sipping
a cocktail, she chatted with Chalice, who looked truly regal in silver lace
and diamonds.  They spotted him and walked over.
        "Commander Riker," said the Princess of the Unicorn, "it's good to
see you.  How do you like Amber?"
        "From what I've seen, I like it very much."
        "Will, I checked on Captain Picard again just before I came down,"
Crusher said.  "His vital signs are much stronger already.  I'm afraid you
won't be a captain much longer."
        "Wonderful."  A footman in green and gold livery presented a tray of
drinks.  Riker selected and interesting-looking one.  "Is this good?" he
asked Chalice, squinting at the five layers of color and miniature fireworks
popping at the top.
        "It's not bad.  I prefer champagne, though."  She indicated another
footman (this one wore crimson laced with silver) who carried a dark bottle.
"From my own cellar.  Would you like some?"
        "Thank you."
        "Will, I want to request the Chalice be transferred to Medical."
        "You're a doctor?" he asked Chalice.
        "She's a top-notch surgeon," Crusher said.
        "We all have some medical training.  It's a matter of survival."
        "*Some* medical training--where did you study?"
        "In your shadow, Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Vulcan Science Academy . .
a couple other places.  Doctor, here comes Deanna.  Why don't you check on
her?"
        Sure enough, Deanna, lying on a litter, was being borne in by four
guards.  Beverly headed off to see her.  Riker started to follow but was
stopped by Chalice's hand on his arm.  "You can talk to her later.  There's
someone I want you to meet."  As they passed through the room, Riker
recognized some of the other royals he'd met before.  Most of them had made
it back, it seemed.  But there was one member of the royal house who he didn't
see.
        "Where's Vlad?"
        "Shh.  Don't mention that."  Sotto voce, she added, "Tell you later."
        Sitting in large gold-leafed chairs at the center of the high table
were a husky man with curly russet hair and beard, wearing a golden, jeweled
crown.  Beside him last a quietly lovely woman with empty eyes.
        "Random, this is Commander William Riker of the Enterprise.  Commander,
Random, King in Amber."
        Riker bowed.  The king's first words were not what he expected, though.
"Chalice tells me you dig jazz.  Maybe we could have a jam session later."
        "I'd like that."
        Worf and Merlin came up next to Riker.  Worf went down on one knee and
barked, "Your Majesty."
        "Worf," Random replied.
        "Your armory is  . . . well equipped."
        "Thank you.  Did you and Merlin have a good practice session?"
        "He is a formidible warrior."
        "High praise from a Klingon," Merlin said.
        Trumpets blared from the far end of the room.  "Dinner time," said the
king.
        "Where should we sit?" Riker asked.  He was gradually getting used to
the strange mix of strictest protocol and absolute informality that governed
social relations here.
        "Wherever you want," Queen Vialle said, smiling.  "This is just a
family dinner."

        It was at the same time the most splendid and the most chaotic dinner
party Riker had ever attended.  Despite the elegance of the people and setting,
there seemed to be no order of seating or service.  Some ate exclusively from
a menue prepared just for them (Worf downed three platters of gach), while
others picked and chose whatever looked good from the selection available.
And a lot looked good.  People changed seats at will and conversed quietly in
groups of two or three.  Hence the need for lots of extra seats;  Riker noted
that the clumps preferred to be isolated.  As soon as someone left his or
her seat (unless a footman was placed on guard) one servant cleared the place

and another laid another.  The only exceptions to the revolving seating plan
were the King, Queen, and Deanna--their clumps were stationary.
        When at last the last cake had been finished and the last tray of
pastries sent back empty--these people of Amber were prodigious eaters--and
all that were left were bowls heaped with fruit, King Random stood and
strode out of the hall.  All the others stood as he passed by, and then settled
down to their previous pursuits.  At least three of the natives seemed to be
trying their hardest to arrange a later rendezvous with Deanna, and Beverly
apparently had her evening's entertainment set up with a tall man in black
velvet.  Strangely, although he did not seem terribly old, his hair was pure
white.
        After about five minutes, Chalice climbed off her husband's lap,
nodded at Riker, and left.  He noted with some surprise that she was accorded
the same courtesy as Random had been--everyone stood, and a few people bowed.
Several of her crimson-and-silver clad footmen followed her out. Seeing that
Merlin made no sign of immediately leaving, Riker felt free to finish his
drink before he bid the lovely greenskinned Princess Llewella good evening.
        One of Chalice's footmen met him outside the door and gave him
directions to the library.  Actually, he could just have said, "Follow the
drums," because the room and the passages outside were full of the sound:
King Random was hitting the skins with a good deal of noise and no small skill.
Chalice stood at the far side of the room studying and etching of the Unicorn;
she did not turn around when Riker entered.  He took a seat on a deep leather
sofa facing a huge empty fireplace, and waited.  Sure enough, Worf, Crusher,
Troi (still being carried around by Random's men), and finally Merlin each
arrived in turn.  Merlin closed and locked the door behind him.


                           CHAPTER 11

        Once Merlin had taken his place on the couch beside the others, Random
set down his drumsticks and climbed down from the array of drums.  Chalice
likewise left her musings and joined the group, but did not sit.  Instead
she stood facing Random across the hearth.  Random spoke.
        "Chalice, Merlin, and several others have told me about the thread
your shadow faces, about your battles, and about your journey here.  No doubt
you have many questions.  Some have already been answered, some will never be
answered.  But I do know you've come across one of Amber's better-kept secrets."
        "Vlad," Riker said.
        "Vlad," Random answered.  "Vlad is a being of uncertain parentage and
unusual abilities, but certainly of the blood of Amber.  He came to us some time
ago and since then has served faithfully in a confidential and occasionally
covert fashion.  Our own one-man CIA, if you will.
        "There are some facts you need to know.  First, Fiona did not return
from the battle.  While trums yield no answer, it is the consensus that she is
not dead, just out of reach."
        "Like we were for a while," Merlin said.
        "Correct.  I'll have more to say about that in a bit.  Second,
Ghostwheel is also down.  Vlad's information is that it's gone off on one of
its snits--"
        "Ghost does not have snits.  Sulks, yes.  Snits, no," Merlin said.
        "--whatever.  But after you left the scene of battle, there were several
other confrontations;  even their 'home system' was sent through Shadow to a
place where their systems won't work, in fact, to where they'll be unstable and
would self-destruct.  Which is exactly what happened.  Except that right
afterwards, Ghostwheel went off sulking and the ship Fiona was on encountered
a Borg cube.  They both disappeared.  Since then, no word from either Ghost or
Fiona.
        "Third, there's the difficulty you had reaching Amber.  It was obvious
that someone with real powers was determined to keep you away."
        "Who could have done that?" asked Crusher.  This discussion of family
intrigue and violence on a cosmic scale seemed to exert a powerful fascination
for her.
        "Fiona--maybe.  Ghost--definitely.  Me--doubtfully.  There are three--
no, four--others in Amber, but some of those are supposed to be dead."  Riker
noticed that he didn't mention Merlin or Chalice, but he supposed that Random
was just being polite.
        "Vlad?" Merlin asked.
        "I don't think so.  Vlad hasn't walked the Pattern.  His gifts lie in
information gathering, not Shadow manipulation," Chalice said.
        "The question we have to ask now is, what happened to Fiona?  Is she
still trying to make it back?  If so, who's preventing it? Does she not want
to come back?  Or, was she captured by the Borg?  If so . . ."
        Random didn't finish the sentence.  He didn't have to.  The picture of
Jean-Luc Picard, now freed from the bonds of Locutus, flashed before them.
        "If so," continued Chalice, breaking the hush with icy tones as hard
and sharp as the diamonds in her tiara, "what does that imply for Amber?"
        The four Federation personnel looked at each other.  The larger
implications hadn't crossed their minds.
        "If Fiona becomes part of the Borg, the all Amber may be assimilated
into their technology," Riker said.
        "They could walk through Shadows, even come to Amber.  No reality
would be safe," Deanna murmered.
        "Not necessarily.  They couldn't come to Amber:  their cybernetic
implants wouldn't work.  They'd be helpless.  That would also prevent their
walking the Pattern," Chalice said.
        "They wouldn't have to.  They could incorporate the Pattern into
their programming.  At the very least, Fiona could lead them wherever they
wanted to go," Merlin said.
        Chalice sank into a chair.  "Merlin, son of Corwin, son of Oberon, we
are in deep shit."
        Random had pulled out a card and seemed to be arguing with someone on
the other end of the line.  Finally he reached in and pulled Vlad through.
The impeccably elegant pose of the previous night was gone.  He looked rumpled
in body and spirit.
        "I told you, there's nothing new," he snapped.
        "I don't care what you said then.  Have you traced that ship yet?
Have you made contact with Ghostwheel yet?
        "No and no."
        "You're lying," Troi said.
        Vlad turned to her.  "Beware, mortal.  You speak to one of the blood
of Amber."
        Deanna Troi leaned back on the silver-and-jade brocade cushions of
her litter, licked her lips and smiled.  "Commander," she said to Riker in a
voice of infinite sweetness, "I sense great deception."
        "Your word is good enough for me, Counsellor," Riker said.
        "For me, too."  Chalice pulled a silvery dagger out of her sleeve.
"Where is she, Vlad?"
        "You'll never find her."
        "We'll see.  Merlin, take him out of here.  I'm sure Gerard and Julian
will want to see him."
        Vlad blanched and looked around as if ready to run for it.  But with
two other men prepared to jump him at the slightest provocation, he decided to
give it up.  "In Remba's dungeons."
        "Why doesn't she answer?"
        "She's been kept unconscious."
        "And Ghost?"
        "How should I know?  Ask Merlin.  It's his toy."
        "The 'assasination attempt'?" Chalice said.
        Vlad laughed in her face.  "Between us, O Princess of the Unicorn, it
is vendetta."
        "Why?"
        "Don't be obtuse, Princess."  They locked stares for a long time.
        "Very well," she said finally.  "May we agree on a truce until I can
get my friends--innocent bystanders and mortals all--out of the way and back
into their own Shadow?"
        "Have it your way.  I have the feeling I'll be occupied for some time
to come."
        "You got that right," Merlin said, sliding an Italian stiletto between
his ribs.
        Vlad slid silently to the floor.
        "Sorry about the rug, Random."
        "That's okay.  He's not bleeding much."


                           CHAPTER 12

        Two days later, the group of Enterprise personnel left Castle Amber.
Riker, Worf, and Chalice rode steeds from the stable, while Crusher, Troi, and
the still-sleeping Picard traveled in a wagon.
        "So Amber constitues the one true reality, and the further away you
get, the less real things are?" Riker asked his hostess as they rode easily
down the slopes of Kolvir.
        "That's pretty much correct."
        "Is the process continuous, or are there breaks in it?"
        "Continuous, most of the time."
        "In other words, where we are right now is less real than where we
were five minutes ago."
        "Theoretically, yes.  But you'd never be able to quantify the
difference.  And to tell the truth, we don't usually try."  The sun shone in
the impossibly blue sky;  the sea glittered below them, and the wind from the
forest was invitingly cool in their faces.
        "Usually?"
        "Usually."
        "For a subquantal physicist, you sound awfully imprecise."
        "I did say *most* of us don't try."  With her uniform she wore the
Unicorn pendant.  Today it was on a short chain of heavy platinum so it rested
snugly around her high black collar.  "How are you doing back there?" she
called to Deanna, who held the team's reins in her good hand.
        "We're fine.  This is an awfully well-trained set of horses."
        "One of Julian's talents," Chalice remarked to Riker.
        They rode at an easy pace throughout the morning, stopped for an
elegant picnic in a clearing in the Forest of Arden, and then rode for a few
more hours.  Eventually Chalice steered them to a small rocky bluff, and they
followed it for a whil.  Near a narrow cave opening, she pulled up and
dismounted.  "From here we walk," she announced.  They slid Captain Picard,
now lashed to a stretcher, out of the back of the wagon, and Worf and Riker
carrying him, followed Chalice into the cave.  Deanna and Beverly were in the
rear.
        There were a few tricky twists early on, but the way soon straightened
out and widened.  Periodic torches threw dancing light to guide them.
        "Will," Beverly said, "This rock has been worked."
        "I noticed."
        Soon the cave had become a  corridor with regular lights above and
doors at either side.  Riker wondered idly what he would see if he opened one.
Chalice picked a door, a flimsy-looking thing with peeling paint.  She stared
at it hard for a long moment, and then she pulled it open.
        The group walked into the Enterprise.  "That's quite a trick,
Lieutenant," Riker said.
        "My pleasure, sir."
        Riker hit his communicator.  "Medical team to this location.  Commander
Shelby, Commander LaForge, meet me on the bridge with full reports in five
minutes.  I want to get underway as soon as possible.  Riker out."
        He looked at Chalice.  "Back home?"
        "Back home."

       ---------------------------------------------------------
               Lorna Payne
               Certified Math Geek and Grammarian
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Heisenberg may have been here . . . but it's not certain.
       ---------------------------------------------------------
-- 

     -------------------------------------------------------------
               Lorna Payne
               Certified Math Geek and Grammarian
     -------------------------------------------------------------
     The concept is simply staggering.  Pointless, but staggering.
                         -The Doctor (The Pirate Planet)
     -------------------------------------------------------------

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